New Moon Reimagined
by Visser2315
Summary: After a long convalescence following the confrontation with the hunter, Beau has just had the best summer of his life. But happiness is a fragile thing when it's all wrapped up in a single person—especially when that person is a vampire. [A continuation of Life and Death with the original Twilight ending.]
1. Preface

A/N: When I finished reading Life and Death, I definitely enjoyed the new ending, and I loved the sense of closure, but I also found myself getting nostalgic for the original ending and New Moon...I think I've seen one or two others on here who have started doing something very similar to this, but none that had gotten too far yet, so I ended up doing this, purely for fun while I take a bit of a break from some other projects. (My goal is to post on here at least up through the end of chapter 3, though in terms of rough drafts, I have gotten further than that as of now...We'll see.)

Disclaimer: Considering the nature of this kind of project, plagiarism is just going to be a fact of life. The Twilight series and _Life and Death_ both belong to Stephanie Meyer, and many of the lines, dialogue, and word choices will belong to her too. That being said, this will not be a transcribed version of New Moon with the names and pronouns switched, and in fact, don't be surprised to see quite a few differences of various kinds.

I've already posted the alternate original-Twilight ending for Life and Death, which I figured I needed to write to set up for this. So you might prefer to read that before reading this, though I wouldn't think it would be necessary.

Rated T for...well, nothing more extreme than is in the original.

Thanks for putting up with my overly long author's note, and see you again in the next chapter!

* * *

Preface

I felt like I was trapped in one of those terrifying nightmares—where you know you've got to run, run until your lungs seem ready to burst, but you can't make your body move fast enough. My legs seemed to move like molasses as I shoved my way through the crowds, but the hands on the huge clock tower marched onward, ticking down—down to the end of everything.

But this wasn't a dream. It wasn't even my life I needed to save—someone more important was on the line and, in that moment, strangely my own life didn't seem to matter that much.

Archie had said we were probably both going to die here. Maybe things would have turned out differently if Archie was here to help, if it wasn't all up to me, incompetent me. But it _was_ up to me, and as I heard the clock begin to toll on the hour, vibrating under the soles of my sneakers, I knew I was too late.

I suddenly didn't care where I was, that dangerous enemies surrounded me on all sides. In fact, they gave me a little hope. If I was going to fail, maybe I wouldn't have to live with it for long.

The clock tower tolled again, and the brilliant sun beat down on my head.


	2. Party

A/N: Back again. I thought I'd try to get this out a little faster, since there's not much to the preface. Not a whole lot different at this point, but hope you'll enjoy it anyway. :J

Thanks for reading, and see you at the end!

* * *

Chapter 1: Party

I was pretty sure I was dreaming.

For one thing, I was standing in a shaft of sunlight. Which would be totally normal, if I didn't live in Forks, Washington, where it rains ninety-five percent of the year. For another, I was staring at my Grandpa Marty. Gramps had been dead for six years now.

Gramps looked about the way I remembered him, with leathery skin that folded away from his blue eyes like an elephant, slightly mussed white hair sticking up in a halo around his head.

We both blinked simultaneously, and then the corners of his old mouth spread into a wide grin at the same time mine did. I was suddenly filled with questions. What had he been up to these past years? How was Gran, and had they been reunited in the afterlife? However, I paused as I noticed he'd opened his mouth too, and I held back to let him go ahead and tell me at his own speed. He hesitated too, and we both grinned a little sheepishly.

"Beau?"

I paused, as it wasn't Gramps who had said my name. I definitely knew that voice—I'd know it awake or asleep, or even dead, probably. The voice of an angel I'd go through hell and back for—or at least slog through endless cold and rain on a daily basis.

Normally, any day I saw Edythe Cullen was a good day. However, I could feel the sunshine blaring against the top of my head, and a stab of panic shot through me.

Vampires didn't burn up in the sun, but they did studiously keep out of it around ordinary humans. Vampires were the ultimate predators, made in every way to be alluring to their human prey. When a vampire stepped into the sun, their pale skin refracted sunbeams like a prism, turning them from an almost human-looking being, to something that looked deceptively like a god.

Naturally, Gramps didn't know Edythe was a vampire. This wasn't exactly the way I had pictured introducing my girlfriend—especially since no humans were technically supposed to know they existed. That was why Edythe and her family lived in Forks, where it was overcast almost all the time. But Edythe's lips spread into a smile, showing her dimples, without a hint of worry, like she might if it was only me standing here.

I suddenly had a wish that I'd never had before, that Edythe could use her mysterious power to read minds to read mine. But I'd always been the one exception, so of course she didn't hear my mental shout of warning.

I turned my head with shock and terror to see that Gramps was giving me a startled look tinged with horror.

Edythe came to a stop beside me, and slipped a slender arm around my waist, taking my hand with the other. She smiled up at me and, in spite of myself, I felt my heart give a familiar lurch of pleasure. I felt the corner of my mouth turn up automatically.

I glanced back at Gramps to gauge his reaction, prepared to explain everything, but to my surprise, the horror was gone from his face, and the end of his old wizened mouth had turned up in a slight smile, his blue eyes round with just a hint of wonder.

His arm was hanging down at his side, and I noticed for the first time that the fingers were curled unnaturally inward, as though he were holding some invisible object. Like they were laced through invisible fingers.

I blinked, and as my gaze moved I saw for the first time my grandpa stood surrounded by a giant black frame. Without thinking, I felt the hand that wasn't in Edythe's lift up and drift toward Gramps. Gramps mirrored the movement back at me, in perfect sync. Where the tips of our fingers met, I felt cold glass.

Edythe, who cast no reflection, turned to look at me, and she stretched herself up, and I felt her perfect lips touch my sandpaper cheek.

"Happy birthday, Beau," she said softly.

* * *

I awoke with a jolt. My gaze fell on the window, through which dreary gray light filtered down, replacing the brilliant light of the dream. Just a dream.

I jumped when my alarm went off and nearly knocked it off my bedside table. I stared at the glowing red letters in the bottom corner of the display. September the thirteenth.

I groaned and rolled back over, throwing my pillow over my head.

For most guys, an eighteenth birthday would be a good thing. The world transitioned seeing a boy to recognizing you as a man. You didn't need to get parents to sign permission forms anymore, and you could move out at any time without any legal hassle.

All through the happiest summer I'd ever had in my life, I'd been dreading this day.

Of course, as I looked in the mirror as I brushed my teeth and quickly pulled a comb through my uncooperative hair, I didn't see anything different. Same blue eyes, same unhealthy pale skin and thick dark hair. But at eighteen, I was already older than Edythe would ever be.

Maybe it was a bit dramatic to start worrying about my turning into Gramps right now, but I couldn't quite get the picture my subconscious had dredged up out of my mind. Maybe it was a long way off, but as Edythe and I planned to be together forever, it would come someday. I shivered at the thought.

Not wanting to have to force myself to act excited and happy around Charlie—my dad—I skipped breakfast and went straight out to my truck. However, he was already outside and caught me on the way, so I did my best to plaster on a grin as he gave me the presents I had definitely told him not to get.

I slowly pulled into the parking lot behind Forks High School and carefully maneuvered my truck into a vacant spot. My eyes automatically scanned the area, until they at last settled on what I was looking for, and I let out the barest breath of relief.

Leaning quite motionless against a shiny silver Volvo was Edythe, her inhumanly glorious features accentuated even in the dull, gray natural light of Forks.

Of course, all vampires were beautiful, with ivory skin and sleepless dark crescents beneath their eyes, and moved with a kind of eerily smooth grace. Edythe and all her brothers and sisters—or so all of Forks believed they were brothers and sisters, taken care of by the young couple of Dr. Carine Cullen and her husband Earnest—all shared the same physical traits, the same beauty. However, for some reason that I could never explain, least of all to myself, Edythe had been the one to draw my attention from the start. Maybe I should have been afraid of her as dangerous—that unnatural beauty all vampires shared was part of their equipment as predators, to lure in their prey, and there were definitely times when I was around some other members of her family I'd suddenly felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. But Edythe—Edythe was Edythe. Somehow, I couldn't be afraid of her.

I stared at her across the parking lot, as always, hardly able to believe that she was real and that she was here. And even more amazing, waiting for me.

Standing next to her, bouncing on the balls of his feet, was her brother Archie. He was holding something under his arm which, I thought as I surveyed him through narrowed eyes, looked suspiciously like a package.

I got out of the truck, slamming the door behind me, and headed on over.

"Hey, man," called Archie as he came to meet me partway, grinning. "It's that day. What are you going to do first? Join the military? Go out and buy a pack of American Spirits?"

I glowered at him, but he only grinned back, unperturbed. Probably he had seen what my reaction was going to be ahead of time, and had been looking forward to it. Some vampires, when they were created, were born with special powers. Edythe could hear the thoughts of anyone within a certain range, and Archie saw visions of the future.

Archie thrust the package toward me. "Want to open it now?" he asked, still grinning. "Or later?"

By way of answer, I folded my arms across my chest, and turned wordlessly toward the school doors.

"What did you think of that photobook your mom got you? And the camera from your old man?"

I sighed and grumbled to myself a little. Even if I knew all about Archie's powers, sometimes they were still hard to get used to. "Yeah...they're not bad, I guess."

"Great idea, right?" he said as we walked. "You're only going to be a senior once."

"How many times have _you_ been a senior?" I asked dubiously.

Archie grinned, hands shoved in his pockets. "That's different."

We reached the Volvo then, where Edythe still stood. She smiled up at me, her eyes the color of liquid honey, then slipped her hand into mine. I felt my mood lift just a fraction.

"So," she said. "As discussed, I am not allowed to wish you a happy birthday. Correct?"

"Correct," I answered vehemently, trying to imitate her formal way of speaking, and failing. The kind of cadence of her speech was only something that could be picked up in an earlier century.

"I just thought I would check. Most normal people seem to enjoy things like birthdays and gifts."

Archie laughed, cutting in. "Oh, he'll enjoy it, don't worry about that. He's just being cranky because there's nowhere in this town he can actually buy American Spirits."

"You're planning to take up smoking, Beau?" Edythe asked, with a definite note of concern.

I shot Archie a poisonous look and said quickly, "Don't listen to him. I'm not a moron. I do badly enough in the gym without coating my lungs in tar, too." However, as I turned to look at Edythe earnestly, I saw her eyes were twinkling.

"Actually," Archie said seriously, "the real reason he doesn't want to celebrate his birthday is that it means he's one year older than you, Edy."

I could feel the ugly red splotches creeping up my neck, and I shot him a glare. So much for the man code. He wasn't supposed to go around blurting stuff like that out.

"It's just one year," Edythe said lightly, squeezing my hand a little. As always, her fingers were cold as ice and hard as stone.

I looked down at her. Technically, she was right, it was just one year, and most people couldn't have told the difference between seventeen years and an eighteen years. If there was a definite plan in the works to let me join the Cullens—not as a human, but as truly one of _them_ —then it wouldn't be a big deal. But Edythe was set absolutely, positively against it. I wasn't becoming a vampire, and that was final. And as long as Edythe stuck to her guns, that future of Gramps-me was getting closer all the time.

"So," said Archie, cutting into my thoughts. "What time you going to be at the house?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I didn't know I had plans to be there."

Archie slapped me lightly on the back, causing me to double up, wheezing.

"Come on, don't be like that, man. We've got it all planned. Big shindig."

"I thought birthdays were supposed to be about getting what you want," I grumbled.

"He'll be there," Edythe promised, lips turning up and looking just a little mischievous. "From Charlie's, right after school. I'll make sure of it."

"I've got work," I argued.

Archie waved a hand dismissively. "Already taken care of. Called Mrs. Newton and she went ahead and traded your shift. Nice lady. She told me to wish you 'Happy Birthday.'"

I gritted my teeth. I was starting to feel like one of Charlie's fish on a hook, thrashing wildly as I was slowly, inexorably reeled in toward my doom.

"Can't come," I insisted again. "I've got English homework."

Archie looked mystified. "English homework?" he said blankly. He turned to Edythe.

She smiled a little. "Everyone is supposed to watch the play _Romeo and Juliet_ by next class. The nineteen-sixties version."

Archie looked aghast. "And just how many guys in your class does this teacher think is _actually_ going to go home and sit through it? Edy, you can't let him torture himself that way. As his girlfriend, you're obligated to get him out of it any way possible. You know what the teacher is going to ask on the pop quiz, just give him the answers."

Edythe laughed, as always the sound like a musical choir. "As unethical as that would be, I do see your point." She turned her gaze up to me, topaz eyes sparkling. "Question number one—"

I had to look away from her to keep my head clear and my purpose set. Between spending the afternoon watching _Romeo and Juliet_ for class and spending the evening at the Cullen's, trying to pretend to be happy about taking one step closer to assisted living, I knew which one I'd prefer.

"Really," I said, cutting her off. "I don't mind _Romeo and Juliet,_ it's okay. I'll just watch it."

Archie folded his arms, and for the first time, started to look just a touch annoyed. "Look, man, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice. But if I don't see your scrawny butt at the house—"

Edythe cut him off. "Relax, Archie. It's Beau's birthday, he can watch Romeo and Juliet if he wants to."

"That's right," I agreed quickly. "What she said."

Edythe went on, "I'll bring him over around seven. That will give you time to set up."

Archie's smile was instantly back. "Cool. See you then, man. It'll be a riot." He was already on his way down the walk, humming to himself, before I could even think to respond.

I shot Edythe a look of severe disapproval, but I couldn't keep it up as she smiled brightly, showing her dimples, and leaving me helplessly spellbound.

"I really don't want to," I muttered sullenly, eyes on the sidewalk.

Edythe touched my cheek briefly with the back of her hand. "Let's talk about it later," she said. "We'll be late for class."

When Edythe and I had first started dating, it had been the subject of a lot of gossip. One, because the Cullens had always kept to themselves, and Edythe had always been cool and standoffish toward guys. Two, because she was jaw-droppingly beautiful and everyone who saw us together knew I was way, way out of her league. However, we'd been together long enough now that no one whispered as we passed anymore.

Edythe and I took up our usual seats at the back of the class. These days, pretty much all our classes were together. I didn't know the details, but Edythe had used her influence and powers of persuasion to wangle it somehow, and I wasn't going to complain.

McKayla gave me a smile and a wave as she passed me on the way to her seat. I was relieved to have our relationship back to friendly. Right after Edythe and I started dating, I'd thought McKayla seemed a little downcast and gloomy whenever she looked in my direction. Edythe had cheerfully informed me that McKayla absolutely hated her guts, and worried I was too nice a guy to get eaten alive by a black widow. I was hopeful that McKayla was getting past that now.

As the day went by, I plotted ways of getting out of letting Edythe drag me down to her house. Normally I liked going down to the Cullens; they were all so welcoming I'd almost started to feel like one of Dr. Cullen's adopted sons myself. But today, I really wasn't in the mood to celebrate.

I was also just a little peeved that apparently no one had listened to me when I explicitly said no presents. I'd expected Charlie and my mom to ignore me, which they had, but the idea of the Cullens all throwing gifts at me made me grimace.

I was used to being the poor guy—my mom had raised me on a kindergarten teacher's salary, and I'd learned how to pinch pennies practically out of diapers. Now that I was in Forks, Charlie's income from his job as the police chief wasn't a whole lot better, though I made a little cash working at a sporting goods store on the edge of town, owned by McKayla's parents, and I horded it away for college, just in case I actually ended up going. But, not having a lot of money to throw around had never really bothered me.

By contrast, the Cullen were rolling in wealth—money didn't mean a whole lot to immortals a century and more old, and when one of you had an unreal ability to predict trends in the stock market—and I knew if I let her, Edythe would have me driving a red Ferrari, going out to expensive restaurants in Seattle every night ("If you're worried they're looking at you funny, we can make it look like you paid, Beau, even if, as I said, it _is_ ridiculous to get caught up in antiquated gender roles"), and when I was out of high school, send me to Harvard or Princeton, fully paid.

"Beau," Edythe had said at one point, her growing exasperation obvious, "if this is about some male-ego related desire for self-sufficiency, then I respect you for that, but why can't you just let me spend my money where I want to? If you at least let me get you a nicer car, I wouldn't have to constantly worry about you having a breakdown out in the middle of the countryside."

I didn't think it had anything to do with a male ego, or even the man code I'd made up, and was sure even if things were reversed and Edythe was the guy and I was the girl, I still wouldn't be able to stomach the idea of having money spent on me like that. The thing was that we were already so out of balance. Edythe was beautiful, extravagantly wealthy, and supernaturally powerful. She had stepped in to save my life at least three times that I could count, and was constantly looking out for my safety. Me—I was an awkward dork who couldn't spend a day in gym class without falling on my face and taking a few people with me. The fact that she had singled me out, taken an interest in me, was still a mystery to me even now. I never felt like I was really giving anything back, and having her showering me with money would only make it that much worse.

For lunch, Edythe, Archie and I sat at our usual table, at the far end on the same table with some of our other friends, Jeremy and Allen, McKayla, Erica, Taylor, and Logan. Now that the older Cullen siblings, Jessamine, Royal, and Eleanor, had all graduated, it felt more natural for Edythe and Archie to sit closer to the others, though the three of us still remained a little apart.

When school was over, Edythe walked over with me to my truck, the way she usually did, but this time I couldn't help but notice she headed straight for the driver's side door, and pointed me in the direction of the passenger side. I guessed Archie had taken the Volvo, leaving Edythe to act as my parole officer to keep me from trying to make a break for it.

"You're seriously going to drive my truck?" I said, looking at her in disbelief. "Shouldn't I get to drive? It is my...you know."

Edythe raised her eyebrows. "But I thought we were pretending it wasn't your birthday," she said archly.

"Yeah well," I muttered. "I want to drive." I added hopefully after a minute, "Unless we can cancel going to your house after."

Edythe smiled. "Sorry, Beau." She stepped away from the driver's side cab and walked around to the other. "All yours."

I climbed inside and slammed the door behind me. I looked over at my passenger.

"Seat belts," I announced.

Edythe looked back at me like I was crazy. If we were in a crash, even if my truck wasn't a monster that I privately thought could go up against a semi and come out smiling, Edythe would walk away without a scratch.

"Really, Beau?"

"Seat belt," I said again. With a sigh, she reached back and snapped the buckle into place.

As I backed out of the parking lot and started off in the direction of my house, Edythe twiddled with the truck radio.

"I don't think I've ever heard reception this bad," she mused.

I'd been feeling stressed since I'd learned about Archie's plans, and I wasn't in the mood to listen to people diss my truck.

"If you wanted to listen to a nice stereo, maybe you should have taken your own car."

Edythe glanced up at me, and I could tell she was fighting a smile.

When at last I pulled the truck into Charlie's driveway, we sat there for a moment in silence.

"You really should be in a good mood," Edythe said matter-of-factly. "Today of all days."

"Yeah, well," I muttered.

Edythe eyed me for a moment, and her eyes seemed to burn like molten gold. Her lips flickered into a smile. She leaned across the middle seat, and I realized I was leaning back toward her.

"Here's something," she said softly, and I felt the taste of her sweet breath on my face. I stopped breathing.

She reached up with her small ivory hands, and cupped my face between them. Her palms were frigid and hard as ice blocks, but she held me very gently, as though holding something made of glass. "Close your eyes, Beau," she murmured.

I obediently did as I was told. I felt her breath on my nose and mouth a moment before her cold, hard lips briefly pressed against mine. A moment later she pulled back, releasing my face.

I looked at her dizzily for a moment, an electric thrill pulsing through my system and my heart hammering in my chest. When I'd finally found my voice again, I said dazedly, "And...that's it?"

Edythe smiled. "That's it. Because you still haven't learned to be good, Beau."

Edythe had drawn very exacting physical lines between us, mainly for my own safety. Vampires all had superhuman strength, not to mention an ever present thirst for human blood, and there was something about the smell of my blood that made the temptation particularly hard for Edythe. As Edythe had described it, my blood was her brand of heroin. The first time we really ran into each other at Forks high school, Edythe had sat rigid in her seat, glaring at me like I was a demon from hell, and she had told me later she had been plotting dozens of ways to lure me away from the safety of the others so she could suck me dry. But out of some sense of humanity that she was able to hold onto, even under the onslaught of her vampire instincts at their most potent, instead she'd walked away, leaving me to go about my ordinary, humdrum life.

I knew even now the temptation to eat me was still there, at the back of her mind. A part of me knew this should probably disturb me, but somehow, when I tried to stop and examine how I really felt, I just wasn't afraid of Edythe, and couldn't be even if I tried. Of course, that was part of why I had a tendency to make things harder on her. Edythe tried to avoid being too close, but sometimes I'd found my body doing things I hadn't commanded it to do.

"It _is_ my birthday," I said.

But Edythe only laughed, and pushed the side door open. "Come on, Beau. Let's go watch a sappy, tragic romance."

I had already stopped by a little shop the day before to buy the movie, and I quickly tore off the wrapping and slotted the disc into the machine, where it whirred to life.

Edythe had already gone to sit on the couch, and I went to sit beside her, remote in hand. Edythe turned, so that she draped her legs over mine, and reached out to take my hand to hold it. Even through the legs of my trousers, I felt the ice of where we came into contact.

Trying not to let myself get too distracted, I skipped ahead through the credits to the home menu, then hit the play button.

I knew I'd studied Romeo and Juliet in school before, and as Romeo appeared in the first scene I tried to mentally line up the order of events.

"I never did care for Romeo," said Edythe presently, interrupting my studious thoughts. "In fact, I always found him to be a rather pathetic, even reprehensible figure."

I glanced over at her, feeling my brow draw down a little. Romeo had never been my favorite fictional character, but somehow, as a guy myself, I wasn't sure how to feel about that. Weren't girls supposed to see Romeo as the kind of ultimate prince in shining armor? "What's wrong with him?"

Edythe raised her free hand, fingers splayed, and began ticking off the reasons. "Well, first there's that other girl, Rosaline. Surprisingly quick to change the identity of the one true love of his life, our Romeo. Then there's the obvious plain lack of common sense—killing the cousin of his new wife, you think he would have foreseen the trouble that was liable to cause. Not to mention he was a cradle robber. Juliet was what—thirteen?"

By now I was starting to get into the story as one of the early confrontations between the Capulets and Montagues started up, and found myself a little annoyed. "It's just a play. You're not supposed to take it seriously."

I turned surreptitiously in Edythe's direction briefly, and saw her gaze was focused entirely on me instead of the film, and her eyes seemed to twinkle with amusement at my reaction.

"Are you going to watch the movie?" I asked, frowning.

Edythe was smiling slightly. "No, I'm going to watch you," she said, unabashed.

Feeling the familiar red color creeping up my neck and not sure how to respond, I turned back to the screen. A moment later, I felt a cool arm slide around behind my waist, and I rested an arm on her slender shoulders. I wondered if Archie was really right, and absolutely none of the guys in our English class would actually watch the film. If so, it was their loss. It was a good date movie.

Edythe stayed quiet then, and in spite of myself, I didn't have a lot of trouble getting sucked into the drama of the narrative. I got a little choked up when Romeo heard of his love's death, and entered the crypt where she lay, vial of poison from the apothecary in hand.

"Lack of brilliance, once again," Edythe murmured, cutting into my thoughts one more time. "If he was going to do it, he ought to have made absolutely certain first. If he had only waited a few minutes, so much pain could have been avoided."

I glanced at her. "He did try," I pointed out. "He went to her crypt. She was cold, she wasn't breathing. How was he supposed to know?"

Edythe was still holding my hand, and she traced a fingernail along the skin between my thumb and forefinger. "I suppose," she said. Her eyes flickered to the screen. She added thoughtfully, "I have to admit, however, I envy him a bit here. And Juliet, both."

I stared back at her, mystified. "Because they both died gruesome, horrible deaths thanks to a misunderstanding?"

Edythe laughed, the sound like music. "No, I mean how easily they were able to die when they chose to. Humans are more fortunate than they know. All Romeo needed was a little vial of plant extracts, and Juliet, a small dagger."

I looked at her for a long moment, not sure what she was getting at. "What do you mean?"

Edythe's lips were still curled in that same smile, but her tawny eyes glinted with a hint of steel. "I had to think about it once," she said softly. "Our kind...dying isn't so easy. You remember Carine's story, how she tried to kill herself when she first realized what she had become. But she couldn't."

I had gone very still, the movie forgotten. "What do you mean, you had to think about it once?" I said slowly.

Edythe tilted her head to one side, smile still in place, but her eyes almost hard. When she spoke, her tone was teasing, but her voice was quiet. "Last spring, when you were almost...killed." She paused, eyes not moving from mine. "Of course, we were determined to save you, but at the back of my mind, I had to start making contingency plans. Just in case. Like I said, it's not easy for a vampire to die—or whatever it is we do."

My mind suddenly shot back to Phoenix. The ballet room, where a sadistic vampire who loved nothing more than the thrill of the hunt and inciting other worthy foes to give chase and do battle with her, stood over me, smiling as she snapped my leg and smashed my ribs. I glanced down at my finger, where the crescent shaped scar of Joss's teeth was just a little cooler than the rest of my body.

"Contingency plans?" I echoed, drawing out every syllable as though I were trying to speak underwater.

"Well," she said matter-of-factly, "obviously I wasn't going to live without you. But I wasn't exactly sure how to get it done. Eleanor and Jessamine wouldn't help me, I knew that for sure, and definitely not Royal or Archie. I thought maybe I could go to Italy. Do something to provoke the Volturi."

Edythe was no longer looking at me. Her eyes were still on the television screen, but her gaze was far away.

"Volturi?" I repeated in a low, hoarse voice.

Edythe waved a hand dismissively. "The Volturi are an old vampire family. A little like royalty would be to you, I suppose. Carine lived with them briefly in Italy before she came to America."

I nodded. Edythe had shown me the paintings depicting Carine's life at the Cullen's, and I remembered one in particular, one man and three women, and a small girl. One of the figures in the painting had been Carine, while the others were named Sulpicia, Marcus—the man—Athenodora, and Mele, the girl. Nighttime patrons of the arts, so Edythe had called them.

"The Volturi rule over our kind," Edythe continued. "They make the laws to make certain we stay hidden and unknown to the human world at large. If you do anything to break those laws...you are executed, swiftly and decisively."

I was still looking at her. Maybe I should have found it romantic, or flattering or something, but I suddenly felt my temper flare.

"Look," I said. "This isn't _Romeo and Juliet_. You don't just run off and kill yourself for something like that. I can't believe that was even going through your mind." I felt myself calm a little and added, "But you wouldn't have gone through with it. It was just a passing thought. An emotional response or something. Right?"

Edythe looked back at me, and she didn't blink. The sleepless dark patches beneath her golden eyes seemed unusually pronounced. "I would have," she said softly, her eyes burning with intensity. "Because there would have been nothing else for me _to_ do."

I shook my head, feeling my uncharacteristic anger return, only to be replaced by fear. Fear of the thought of her, not existing somewhere in the world. "And what if something happened to you?" I said, grasping at anything. "Would you want me to run off and pull a Romeo?"

Edythe's eyebrows contracted above her eyes, and her faintly amused expression turned to pain. "Well, no," she admitted. "But it's pointless to talk about anyway, because nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let it."

Her brooding expression softened, and when she glanced again in my direction, she suddenly grinned. "But you know, Beau. If we're comparing ourselves to Romeo and Juliet, you know you're more like Juliet, right?"

I frowned, distracted. "How so?"

Her grin widened. "Well, first of all, _I'm_ the cradle robber."

I opened my mouth to respond—now that I was eighteen, technically I was older than she was, even if she was close to a century older than me in actual years—but Edythe abruptly let go of my hand and swiveled so her legs came off of mine, sitting next to me with her back straight and hands clasped in her lap like a proper young lady.

"Charlie?" I guessed.

"Almost to the driveway," she said, smiling back.

A moment later I heard the crunch of the police cruiser as it pulled up to the house and the slam of a car door as my dad got out and headed up the drive.

Charlie came in with a pizza box in his hand and a grin on his face. "Hey," he said. "Thought you might like a break from washing dishes and cooking for your birthday." Looking at Edythe, he added, "I swear, he'd make someone a good housewife."

"Dad," I grumbled as Edythe laughed.

Charlie and I ate, though of course Edythe passed on dinner as she always did and spent the time making polite conversation. Charlie was used to this by now and didn't comment, but he'd told me more than once to make sure I let Edythe know she really didn't need to diet.

When we were finished, Edythe said, "Beau is going to be coming over to my family's house this evening, they have a few plans lined up. Is that all right?"

I looked at Charlie, suddenly hoping that he might have some concept of birthdays as stay-at-home, family affairs. This would be my first birthday with him since my mom had remarried and gone to live in Florida, so I didn't know what he thought. Maybe he would save me from whatever Archie's outrageous plans were.

"That's fine," Charlie said with a shrug. "The Mariners are playing the Sox tonight, so I wouldn't be any kind of company."

I felt myself deflate. So much for that.

"Oh," he added, "but here, take these." He picked up the camera he had gotten me, which my mom had coordinated with him so I'd have a way to fill up my photobook. He tossed it lightly to me.

A bad move, and one he ought to have known better than to try with me. It hit one of my knuckles and bounced off, tumbling toward the linoleum. Luckily Edythe bent and caught it before I could break one of my presents before I'd ever used it.

"Good one," said Charlie. "You should consider signing on the local baseball team."

"It's nothing," Edythe said modestly.

Charlie turned to me. "Take some photos while you're at the Cullens tonight. You know how your mother gets, she'll be wanting to see the pictures faster than you can take them."

Edythe handed me the camera, and I took it reluctantly. However, before I could lose my nerve, I quickly held it up and snapped a shot of her face. "It works," I said, as my excuse.

"Good," Charlie said. Then added, "And say hi to Archie while you're over there, will you? That kid hasn't been over here in a while." He frowned slightly.

I shook my head. It had barely been three days. However, Charlie had really taken a liking to Archie. Last spring when I'd been recovering from my extensive injuries, Archie had really stepped up and helped me with all the embarrassing stuff I couldn't do by myself for a while, like showering and going to the bathroom. I knew Charlie would have been willing to take care of it, but we'd always both been awkward kind of people, and I think we were both grateful not to go through that. Archie's laughter and constant jokes had almost made it bearable. "Okay, Dad, I will."

"You two have a fun night, now," he said. He was already drifting toward the living room, and I knew that was our cue to get gone.

Edythe's polite smile turned crafty, and she looked at me with triumph. "Shall we go?" she said.

Sighing, I turned and trudged after her out the door.

I let Edythe drive this time, as I always had trouble finding the little turnoff that led to the backwoods where the Cullen's house was, especially in the dark. However, I watched her suspiciously out of the corner of my eye as she edged the speedometer up over fifty, and I felt the engine of my ancient Chevy groan in protest.

"Hey," I said. "Careful. Don't push her too fast."

"You know what would suit you, Beau?" Edythe said brightly. "A nice little Audi cabriolet. Very quiet, lots of power. You could feel the wind in your hair if you wanted."

"My truck is fine," I retorted. "Besides, everyone knows you spend a fortune on upkeep and repairs on Audis. That's what you get for German made."

"Of course I'd be willing to take responsibility, and pay for repairs too," Edythe said solemnly. "Or Eleanor knows a thing or two about mechanics."

I shook my head. "No. And speaking of expensive gifts, I did tell you not to spend any money, right?"

She nodded. "Not a single dime," she promised.

"Good."

Edythe glanced over at me, as always not feeling the need to keep her eyes on the road. "Beau?" she said. "Could you do me a favor?"

I regarded her suspiciously. "What?"

She signed deeply, and looked a little downcast. "The last real birthday we celebrated was Eleanor in 1935. So if you could just...play along. Let Archie and the others have their fun."

I looked at her for a moment, and as usual, looking into her eyes I couldn't deny her anything. "Okay."

Edythe looked back at me, then suddenly bit her lip, looking a touch guilty, but also amused. "And you probably should know, Beau. When I say Archie and the others...I mean _all_ of them."

"All?" I said suspiciously. " _All?_ But I thought Eleanor and Royal were supposed to be in Africa." According to the Cullen's story, Eleanor and Royal had graduated last spring, and were now supposed to be away at college.

"Eleanor really wanted to be here."

"And...Royal?" I said apprehensively.

Edythe winced slightly. "He'll be on his best behavior."

I sighed. I got along with most of the Cullens pretty well, but for some reason I'd always gotten the impression Royal hated my guts. I was an outsider, an intruder into their family. I was really glad none of the other Cullens seemed to feel the same way about me, because Royal would have probably been intimidating to a six-foot-tall football star, and he was bad enough.

"Well," said Edythe, cutting into my thoughts. "If you aren't interested in the Audi, isn't there something else I can get you?"

I turned to stare back at her. I said evenly, "I think you know what I want."

A cloud passed over her brow, and she turned to look at me, her light eyes suddenly cold. "No, Beau. This isn't going to be your last birthday."

"You know it's going to happen eventually," I said.

"I know no such thing."

We were at the house now, cutting our argument short. Bright, happy light shone from every window on the first two floors. Someone had strung a series of glowing Japanese lanterns from the porch to the eaves, and a red carpet with gold trim had been laid out leading up the stairs. It reminded me of those carpets laid out for celebrities in Hollywood, where they stepped out of a limousine and were instantly surrounded on all sides by screaming fans and flashing camera bulbs. The image made me cringe.

Edythe seemed to have recovered her good humor, and she slipped a hand in mine. "Please, Beau, do try to be a good sport. This is a party we're supposed to be having."

"Sure," I muttered, eying the ostentatious gold patterns on the edge of the carpet with a deep frown.

Edythe led me up the stairs. I scrambled to try to open the door for her, but of course she got there first, and I was forced to go on in as she held it open for me.

The Cullens were all there waiting, and the moment I stepped through they all chorused at once, "Happy Birthday, Beau!" I looked down and felt the familiar red splotches creeping up my neck.

The white living room had been transformed into something that wouldn't have been out of place at a rock concert. Gothic looking black velvet drapes had been added to the windows, and spidery black ornaments with lots of sharp points hung from the ceiling. Glowing candles covered every surface, along with crystal bowls filled with chocolates, and next to Edythe's grand piano, on a surface covered in a black table cloth a giant chocolate cake had been erected with the words 'Live Free' written in a gangster scrawl. Next to that was a small pile of wrapped presents.

Shoot me, I thought.

Edythe clearly sensed my reaction, and she squeezed my hand encouragingly.

Edythe's parents, Carine and Earnest, were standing the closest to the door.

Earnest leaned forward, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Sorry about this, Beau," he said. "We couldn't make Archie stop."

Eleanor and Royal were standing just a little behind them. Royal didn't look particularly pleased to see me, but for once he wasn't glaring. Eleanor's entire face lit up as she saw me.

"Hey, kiddo," she said, slapping me on the back. "You know, I was sort of expecting to see something different about you, now that you're an adult and all. But you're still just as scrawny and beet-faced as ever."

"Thanks a lot," I muttered, but in truth I was happy to see her. Eleanor was almost like the older sister I'd never had. She had the look of a professional bodybuilder, the kind of girl no one would ever doubt could beat up ninety-five percent of the guys in the world.

"I've got something I've got to take care of—" I could swear she met Archie's gaze for a second and winked—"but I'll be back soon. Don't trip over your own feet or anything while I'm gone, because I want a laugh too."

"I'll try."

Archie had been hanging back, holding Jessamine's hand, but now he broke away to approach me, grinning broadly. Jessamine gave me a slight smile, but she stayed back. Back when we'd been running from Joss in Phoenix, Archie, Jessamine and I had spent quite a bit of time together. I thought we'd gotten to be pretty good friends, but Jessamine seemed to have reverted back to the way she'd been when we'd first been introduced, keeping her distance from me as much as possible.

I didn't know much about Jessamine's story, except that she was the newest member of the Cullen family, and was still relatively new to the Cullen's particular non-human-eating way of life. She didn't have as much practice resisting the allure of the scent of human blood as the others.

"Okay," said Archie, clapping his hands together. "I think it's time for presents."

"I think I told you not to get me anything," I told him, scowling in his direction.

"And obviously we ignored you," he said, grinning back. He snatched away my camera, which I was still holding uncertainly, and replaced it with a big box, wrapped in black wrapping paper. "Go on, man."

The box was so light it actually felt empty. I looked at the tag and saw it was a joint present, from Eleanor, Royal, and Jessamine. Keeping my eyes down, I began tearing into the wrapping, revealing a box with a long string of numbers in the name of whatever it was. It looked like something electrical. Curiously, I drew back the lid, but found the box really was empty.

"Uh, thanks," I said.

Royal actually smiled a little, and Jessamine gave a low tinkling laugh.

"It's a stereo," Jessamine explained in her soft voice. "For your truck. Eleanor's installing it as we speak, so I'm afraid you won't be able to return it."

I realized I actually was happy at the thought, and laughed as I remembered Edythe's disparaging comments about my radio. A setup, apparently.

"Thanks," I said, grinning. "That's great, guys." I thought I heard Eleanor's rich laugh from outside by my truck.

"Next is Edy's and mine," said Archie, grinning. He waved a small silver package in my face.

Eleanor had come back in, and was grinning from ear to ear. "Just finished," she said. "Wasn't going to miss this." She crowded in beside Jessamine, and Jessamine wandered a little closer than usual to get a look too.

"Hey," I said, turning to Edythe with a frown. "You said—"

"And I didn't," Edythe answered, cutting me off. "Not a dime."

I sighed and took the package from Archie.

I held it up for a moment, trying to guess what it was. It was small, but I wondered how Edythe could have managed not to spend any money.

Shrugging, I slipped my finger under the edge of the wrapping, but as I jerked to pull it away, the tip caught the edge, slitting the skin.

"Aw shoot," I muttered, eying the tiny bead of crimson liquid that formed at the edge. I really was a klutz. Cute in a girl, not so cute in a guy.

It happened in a heartbeat. One second I was standing there, still clutching the box in my hand, examining my hand. The next, everything went to hell.

" _No!_ " Edythe shouted, the sound cutting through me like a gunshot.

My head whipped up, startled, only to see Edythe coming at me in a blur of motion. Before I could even begin to figure out what was happening, I felt her forearm slam into my stomach, and I was hurled backward onto the table, knocking the cake and presents every which way. The table tipped back, taking me with it, and I heard the shattering of the glass bowls as they hit the floor a moment before I did.

Dazed, I laid on my elbow amidst the shattered glass, and stared up to see Jessamine—quiet Jessamine—staring down at me, her body thrust forward, her eyes wild with bloodlust. The only thing keeping her from me was Edythe, who had her arms locked around Jessamine's waist, arms pinned to her sides. Jessamine struggled against Edythe's grip, her lips curled back from her teeth in a feral snarl as she spun to snap at Edythe's face. Edythe hurled her back, away from me, and in the next moment Eleanor had seized Jessamine under the arms, dragging her back. However, Jessamine kept fighting, her wild, empty eyes still on me.

I could only stare straight ahead of me in numb shock, and for the first time, I dully registered pain in my arms. I looked down at the glass shards I had landed in, and saw a dozen cuts going from my wrist to my elbow, crimson lines already were oozing out onto the floor.

Vaguely, I raised my eyes to the scene again, only to find that all attention in the room was suddenly on me. And I found myself looking into the eyes of six suddenly ravenous vampires.

* * *

A/N: And there's the first installment. Seriously long chapter, even when I'm doing my best to trim it down...(I'm of the mind that it makes sense for the original books to take longer to develop things adequately, as it is the first time we as the readers are seeing these concepts, but as a rewrite, I think it would be nice to clip along as fast as possible. Unfortunately, for me at least, shorter usually means more effort and brainpower. Although, I go back and forth on what I really think the best pace is, so that part might change...)

So, I did my best to rewrite scenes based on the switched genders. (Archie seemed to be quite a different character from Alice, so I tried my best to reflect that.) I feel like there are so many things Bella says and does that would totally, totally not work for a guy...And it only gets worse from here... Anyway, this ought to show you about what to expect with later chapters—clearly, very similar events to the original, but some differences in the writing and dialogue, and some changes that have less to do with the gender-swap than just my own instinctive sense of the ebb and flow of the altered story. (I don't actually trust my instincts when it comes to writing, but for this story, because I'm doing it mainly for fun, I decided I'm going to pretend that I do.)

Side note: Really, if someone offers to buy you an Audi, turn and run the other way. You will spend more on repairs than the car ever cost. (Friends don't give friends Audis.)

Anyway, if you like, let me know what you think of my version so far. :J Thanks for reading, and see you next chapter!

Posted 12/13/15


	3. Stitches

A/N: Hey, guys! Thanks so much for the response last chapter, you're awesome! (Glad to see there are some other Life and Death fans out there.) Being the holidays, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get to this if I left it until later in the week, so I decided to go and get it out now.

I didn't see a lot of changes to make this chapter, so quite a bit of it's the same...Hope you'll bear with me. Thanks for reading, and see you at the end!

* * *

Chapter 2: Stitches

Carine was the only one who stayed calm. As a doctor, she'd spent centuries in emergency rooms around human blood, and she was completely in control.

"Eleanor, Royal, get Jessamine outside," she said quietly.

Eleanor nodded, looking a little shaken. "Come on, Jess," she muttered. "Let's go."

Jessamine didn't stop struggling against Eleanor's powerful grip, her eyes still fastened on me.

Edythe was white as a sheet, and I noticed she wasn't breathing in as she crouched protectively in front of me, lips curled back from her teeth in a territorial snarl, eyes fixed on Jessamine. Royal joined in, taking up one of Jessamine's arms to help Eleanor as they both dragged her back, toward the exit. Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I saw a strange touch of triumph in his face.

Earnest had moved ahead to hold open the door for them. He was holding a hand over his mouth and nose, and he glanced briefly in my direction, then looked down. "Sorry, Beau," he said in a low, pained voice, before he turned and followed the others into the yard.

Carine approached. "Let me see him, Edythe," she said quietly.

Edythe stood rigid in place for a long moment, back still bent. Then at last she straightened and nodded once mutely.

Carine knelt down beside me, leaning in to get a look at my mutilated arm.

Archie approached, a towel in hand. "Here," he said soberly, offering it to Carine.

Carine shook her head. "I'm afraid there's too much glass in the wound. It will have to be picked out." Tearing a strip of cloth from the tablecloth nearby, she began wrapping it around my arm to serve as a tourniquet.

I never could stand the smell of blood, and I felt suddenly lightheaded. My stomach tightened and twisted uncomfortably, and I was afraid of losing the pizza I'd had back at Charlie's.

"Beau," said Carine, very gently. "Would you like me to drive you to the hospital, or do you want me to take care of you here?"

"Here's okay," I said vaguely. Even dazed as I was, I was lucid enough to realize that if she took me to the hospital, there was no way Charlie wouldn't find out about it. Just another advantage of a small town.

Carine was every bit the clinical professional, and she knew exactly what needed to be done. "Archie," she said. "Would you please fetch my bag?"

"No problem." Archie turned and was gone in a heartbeat.

Carine turned to Edythe next. "Let's get him to the kitchen table."

Wordlessly, Edythe slipped an arm under my legs and the other supporting my head, and she picked me up easily while Carine kept the pressure on my arm. If I wasn't so out of it, the princess-lift treatment probably would have had the color rising up my neck.

"How are you feeling, Beau?" Carine asked, again her voice gentle.

"Okay, I think," I said, and I was relieved my voice sounded okay, too.

Edythe's face could have been carved in marble.

Archie was back, and Carine's black doctor's bag was already sitting on the table, a bright desk lamp sitting nearby plugged into the wall. Edythe set me carefully into a chair at the table, and Carine pulled up another. She immediately went to work.

Edythe stood at my side, one hand gripping the back of my chair. She wasn't breathing.

I sighed. "You go, it's okay." I knew how bad it was for her, worse than for any of the others. "Get some fresh air. I'm fine now, Carine will get me taken care of."

I winced as Carine stuck me with a tranquilizer needle.

Edythe's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'll stay," she insisted through gritted teeth. "I can handle it."

Carine stepped in. "I think you may as well go find Jessamine before she gets too far," she said. "I'm sure she's upset with herself, and she likely won't listen to anyone but you."

"Yeah," I said quickly. "I'll be okay, really."

Archie added helpfully, "You might as well be doing something useful."

Edythe stood where she was for a minute, rigid and defiant. But then at last she nodded once. Reaching out to gently squeeze my shoulder, she turned and left through the kitchen's back door.

I refused to look at my arm, afraid I would get queasy and pass out, but I began to feel a numb, dead feeling spreading through it, and the pain of the cuts began to fade a little. To distract myself, I turned my eyes to Carine, watching her face as she worked.

I saw movement by the back door, and noticed Archie slip out, giving me an apologetic smile on the way.

My eyes went back to Carine. She was perfectly calm, completely focused on what she was doing. In light of how everyone else had reacted, her tranquility seemed all the more amazing.

I listened to the quiet _plink, plink_ of glass fragments being dropped onto the table for a minute, then couldn't stop myself blurting, "How do you do it?"

She didn't look up from her work, but she smiled a little. "Do what?" she asked softly. "Smell human blood without going into a frenzy?"

"Well...yeah." I shook my head. I knew she'd been a doctor for years, but even so, even Archie and Earnest couldn't have done this, of that much I was certain. It was like she was on a completely different level.

Another clink of a glass shard on the tabletop. "Established habit," she answered finally. "That's really all there is to it. I simply have centuries of experience the others don't have. In fact, I can honestly say that I barely notice the scent anymore. It's not a temptation the way it used to be."

 _Plink, plink, plink._ More glass came from my arm onto the table. There sure seemed to be a lot of it, but I didn't dare look at the bloody pile if I wanted to stay conscious.

Trying to keep myself distracted, I said, "Wasn't it hard, though? I mean..." I searched for the right words. "It's obvious how tough it is for the others. Edythe—she believes in this life as strongly as any of you, yet when she saw me for the first time, it took every ounce of willpower she had not to kill me. And just now, they were all so tensed up, couldn't even be around me...Maybe you're okay now, but you had to start out like they did sometime. How did you do it? How did you go all those years fighting your natural instincts?"

Carine's face was thoughtful as I heard the sound of another piece of glass falling to the tabletop.

"Hmm. It was difficult, I suppose. However, I was always able to keep my eyes on the future, beyond the immediate carnal need to sate my hunger. I continuously reminded myself of the people, whose hopes and dreams would end should I ever falter or make a mistake. I also kept my eyes on the thought of what my enhanced abilities would be able to accomplish, if only I could have the discipline, the restraint. I believe it was the twin power of those two thoughts that allowed me to pull through it all, to make the necessary sacrifices. Now, it is gratifying to know that the lives of some are better because I exist, because of what I am. That the abilities I possess have, at times, put it in my power to save lives that otherwise could not have been saved."

Carine poked around my wound a little, making certain she had gotten all the remaining bits of glass. Then she pulled out the tools she would need for the stitches.

The thought of the needle made me feel a bit queasy, so I tried to keep her talking. "Where did it start, though?" I wanted to know. "I'm guessing there aren't a whole lot of new vampires who would even think to think like that. Vampires have an established way of living...a natural food source...what made you decide right from the start to go against the grain? Take the tougher road?"

I heard the snip of scissors as she cut the thread, and a strong, odd odor filled my nostrils as she brushed a dark liquid over the operation site. For a moment I felt light-headed and woozy.

"Our instincts are very strong," she admitted. "There is no doubt about that. But that doesn't mean we don't still have a choice. I simply made mine." She paused, smiling a little. "But yes, my history prior to my change is a little unusual, and it may have helped predispose me toward a different way, or at least granted me the opportunity. Edythe told you the story, didn't she?"

I nodded as Carine taped another piece of gauze tightly to my arm, finishing up the process. "Yeah...I remember. When I think about it, though, it still seems kind of unbelievable."

Now that she was done with my arm, Carine was carefully wiping everything down with alcohol-soaked gauze, and the smell burned my nose. She spoke again as she worked.

"You might remember that my father was a clergyman."

I nodded slowly.

Carine's eyes were distant. "He...had a rather harsh view of the world, my father. He hurt many innocent people in his passion to destroy what he saw as evil. The monsters of Satan, he called them."

She had gathered all the bits of gauze into one of the crystal bowls, along with the bloody glass, and lit a match. I jumped as the contents of the bowl flared up in a blinding patch of orange.

Carine sighed deeply, and she watched the flickering flames with a far away look in her eyes. "I didn't agree with my father's way, even back then, and I often pleaded with him to show mercy. Many families were torn apart by my father's zeal to destroy evil. Many people feared and hated him, and by extension, also grew to hate and fear the God my father often spoke of, the God who, through him, rained down fired and judgment. But I—I saw differently. As much as I loved my father, I did not see God in him—not until the final moments of his life. When, one of the monsters he had spent his entire life hunting was before him, tormenting him, and his eyes were filled, not with hatred for them, but with love—Love, even for that which would soon become what he most hated."

My eyes dropped to the dressing on my arm, a little taken aback at the direction this conversation had turned.

Carine was smiling slightly, as though reading my mind. "I'm sure this sort of talk must sound strange, coming from a vampire. What I mean to say is, I suppose, in my nearly four hundred years since I was born, I've never seen anything to make me doubt that God exists, in some form or other. So I've still held out hope that there is a point to this life after all, even for us. Perhaps we are damned, as my father believed, as many believe, but I still hope there may be something different for us."

I sat where I was, turning that over in my mind. "And what about the others?" I asked. "What do they think?"

Carine smiled a little. "You mean what does Edythe think," she guessed perceptively. She nodded. "We have spent some time discussing this topic at length. The two of us agree up to a point. She certainly believes in God and heaven...and conversely, in hell. But she won't believe there's an afterlife for our kind." Carine's gaze was distant as she stared out the large window above the sink, into the darkness. "You see," she said softly, "she thinks we've lost our souls."

Edythe's words from earlier that day drifted back to me. _It's not easy for a vampire to die—or whatever it is we do._

"That's been the real problem all along, hasn't it?" I said slowly. "The real reason she's so set against my changing."

"I can't help but believe that there is a place for us," she said softly. "My daughter is so very kind a person, compassionate, and she has willingly made such sacrifices—I can't help but believe that there must be a place we will go when we pass away from this world. A place where our choices in life count for something."

She paused, and her gaze turned to mine, staring into my eyes. "But you should consider this, Beau...If you believed as she does, could you do that? Could you burn away her soul, forever damn her?"

I was silent. I'd already made my decision for what I was going to do with my life. I was going to be with Edythe. But somehow, phrased that way, the answer didn't seem quite so easy.

"If it's my soul, then it should be my choice," I said at last.

Carine shook her head. "I think you know the kind of person my daughter is better than that, Beau. Any action she takes, she takes on the full weight of its responsibility, without excuse. To do that to you, it must be her choice as well."

I pressed my mouth into a thin line, thinking. "Maybe she doesn't have to take on that responsibility," I said slowly. "Maybe someone else could do it." I gave Carine a pointed look.

She laughed, and the tension in the room seemed to lift. "No, no, none of that. Edythe is family, and I won't go behind her back—and neither will the others, including Archie. It is her decision, and we will stay out of it."

Carine suddenly sighed and shook her head. "In the end, that's the one choice that am I still not entirely certain of. I believe I can be mostly satisfied that I have done the best I could with what fate handed to me—But was I justified to condemn the others to this life? On that point, even now, I am still very much undecided."

I didn't answer. I was glad for what Carine had done, that I had been able to meet Edythe, and nothing would change that.

Carine's gaze was far away again, and she murmured, "That first time, when I was still living my solitary life. It was Edythe's father who made up my mind."

I blink, surprised. Edythe had never said much about her parents. She only had ever said that they had died long ago, and she couldn't remember much about them. But obviously Carine's memories would be perfectly clear.

"His name was Edward. Edward Masen. Her mother, when she was brought in, never regained consciousness, and died in the first wave of the influenza. But Edward held on, by some supernatural force of will, and was alert up until his last moments. Edythe resembled him—she inherited his odd bronze-colored hair and his emerald green eyes."

"Green," I muttered, trying to imagine it.

Carine's eyes were on the dark window again, as she relived the memories of nearly a century ago. "Edward was...unusually attached to his daughter, especially for that time. He adored her. When she fell ill, he used what he had studied of medicine to try to nurse her back to health himself, even though he himself was already wracked by fever, and risked his own chances for survival.

"I expected that Edythe would go first, she was hardly lucid, already on death's door. But when the end came for Edward, it happened very quickly—after sunset, when I had just arrived at the hospital to continue my work. I went to see Edward and Edythe first, as I often did—Even though I knew it to be unwise, something about their story had touched me, and I had grown particularly attached to them. I saw at once that he had gotten worse, and did not have much longer to live.

"Even though at that time I was merely a nurse, Edward's perceptive eyes had seen the way I occasionally compensated for doctor's mistakes, the way my diagnoses often turned out to be the more accurate, and it was I he looked to primarily for his and his precious daughter's care. He had often told me how bright his daughter was, how she would study and go to college, no matter the opposition.

"In his final moments, he somehow found the strength to glare up at me, seizing my hand and gripping it tightly. 'Save her,' he told me hoarsely. 'You must. Do everything in your power—do what others cannot do.'

"I was stunned, and for just an instant, I was sure he saw through me, knew what I really was. Then the fever overtook him, and he passed on within the hour.

"However, his words made up my mind. For decades I had contemplated the idea of creating for myself a companion—one other person who would know what I was. But I had held back, unable to bring myself to do what had been done to me. But now a clear choice lay before me, to stand by and let her simply die as the others died, for I knew she couldn't have more than hours left—or do what no one else could do. On a whim, in the heat of that moment, I made my plans, and acted. Even now, I don't know if I acted rightly, but I have never regretted it. I've never regretted saving Edythe."

We both remained quiet for a moment then, Carine reliving memories of so many years past, me, picturing the scene in my mind. At last, Carine smiled and shook her head.

"Well," she said. "I suppose I ought to take you home now."

"I can do that."

I turned to see Edythe, coming through the shadowy dining room. She moved with unnatural slowness, her face blank, impossible to read. But her eyes held a trace of some emotion that made me uneasy.

"It's okay, Carine can take me," I said. I didn't doubt the smell of my blood would still be bothering her. I glanced down at my shirt, and saw splotches of equal parts blood and chocolate frosting. "Uh, I guess I'll need to change too, so Charlie doesn't have a heart attack."

"I'll have Archie get you something," Edythe said, and her voice was flat and unemotional. She turned, going out of the kitchen the way she had come.

Edythe was obviously upset, and for once, I wasn't eager about the alone time on the ride back. I had no idea what to say.

"Sorry about all this," I mumbled, not entirely sure if I was talking to Carine, or practicing my apology for the way home.

Carine put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry about Edythe, Beau. It's just that a night like tonight is exactly what she's been fearing all along—you being put in danger, because of what we are."

"It's not her fault," I muttered, looking down at my finger. I could still see the thin slice of skin, white at the edges.

We headed back to the main room. Earnest was there, mop in hand, busy cleaning up the mess.

"Hey, let me help," I said, stepping forward.

"It's already done," he said, turning to me with a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a moron," I admitted. "But the arm's not bad. I've never seen a doctor who sews that fast."

Carine and Earnest both chuckled, and Archie and Edythe came in the back doors. Archie had a white T-shirt slung over one arm, and he tossed it to me. "That's about the same style as the one you're wearing. Charlie won't notice anything, right?"

"You could give me a muscle shirt with the sleeves ripped off and he probably wouldn't notice," I said.

I was relieved when Archie cracked a grin, but Edythe's face could have been carved in stone.

I headed toward a bathroom off the hall, and Archie came with me, maybe to make sure I'd be able to get into the shirt with my bad arm. After all the help he'd done following the attack last spring, it was kind of an unspoken agreement between us.

"So," I said in a low voice, when I thought we were out of earshot, glancing back in the direction I'd last seen Edythe. "Just how bad do you think it is?"

Archie frowned. "You mean how Edy's taking this? Honestly man, I think it's too soon to tell." However, from the tension in his brow, I guessed he thought it was pretty bad.

"How's Jessamine doing?"

Archie sighed. "Pretty ticked at herself. It's so hard for her, you know, and she absolutely hates feeling like she's lost to her instincts."

"I know," I said. "I get it. Will you tell her, far as I'm concerned, we're all cool?"

He smiled back a little at me. "Will do."

When we got back, Edythe was still standing by the door, looking as though she hadn't moved a muscle while we'd been gone. She said nothing as she went to hold open the door.

"Don't forget these," Archie said, shoving the remaining presents from my pile into my hand, the one from him and Edythe, and a second one I could only assume was from Carine and Earnest.

Outside, I sucked in a deep breath of the cool night air. Edythe went to the driver's side, and I went to the passenger's without complaint.

A large red ribbon had been stuck on the dashboard over the new stereo. I pulled it off quickly and tossed it in the back, out of sight.

Edythe was silent as a statue, neither looking at me or the new stereo as she turned the key in the ignition. Somehow the deafening roar of my truck's engine only seemed to intensify the silence, and I was suddenly tempted to turn the stereo on, just to break it. My truck sped off, going a little too fast down the winding lane than was probably healthy for it.

I felt like something was stuck in my throat, and I swallowed hard, then spoke at last. "Hey...I'm sorry."

" _Sorry_ ," Edythe hissed, and her voice was laced with such disgust I flinched. "Sorry for what exactly?"

I stared down at the empty space of the seat between us. "I should have been more careful."

"More careful," she sneered, and a hard laugh escaped her mouth. " _More careful_ , he says. For what? For getting a papercut—honestly, how can your sense of reality be this warped? If you had been at any other house and cut your finger, what's the worst that might have happened? They couldn't find you any Neosporin?"

"Hey—" I began, trying to cut in, but Edythe talked over me.

"Say you tripped and knocked over a pile of glass plates. What's the worst case scenario? You got blood on the seats while they drove you to the emergency room? If you'd been at McKayla Newton's house—"

"Hey," I said again, this time raising my voice above hers, and she broke off. I could feel my intimidation at her bad mood giving way to irritation. "If I'd wanted to be at McKayla's house, I would have been there, wouldn't I?"

"Well," said Edythe harshly. "Maybe after tonight, you might start reconsidering your options. What kind of girl would _actually_ be a healthy match for you."

I didn't answer, only fixed her with my best glare, while she glared out the windshield, not looking at me.

Edythe pulled the truck up to the house, switching off the engine. However, her pale hands were still clenched around the steering wheel as though she'd like to twist it in two.

I had been trying to figure out a way to fix the ruined evening the entire drive, but I hadn't come up with anything.

"Will you come up for a while tonight?" I asked at last.

"I should go home," she muttered.

I looked at her, worried she would go and do nothing but brood the rest of the night.

"It is my birthday," I reminded her.

Edythe snorted softly, and her expression looked just a touch lighter than before. "Do you want people to ignore your birthday or don't you?"

"I changed my mind. It is my birthday."

She smiled slightly. "I won't come in tonight. I think I need some time to think, and cool down. But I'll be close."

"You aren't going to go back home and mope?" I said dubiously.

"I'll try not to," she said, smiling a little.

I turned around and pulled the packages Archie had given me onto my lap.

"You don't need to look at those," she said, frowning. "Plus Earnest and Carine spent money."

"That's okay," I said. "It's my birthday, I want my stuff."

I tore into the first one, a long, flat rectangle marked from Earnest and Carine. I was extra careful with the paper this time.

Inside, I found a small white box, and as I lifted the lid I found a thick slip of paper covered in fine print.

"Hey," I said, scanning the writing. "It's a voucher for a plane ticket. Two plane tickets. Jacksonville." I looked back at her, mystified. "So I get to visit my mom. But who else am I taking?"

Edythe smiled. "Whoever you like, Beau."

I thought about it, then a slow grin spread across my face. "You? Wow, my mom is going to freak out. She asks about you all the time." I hesitated. "You'll have to stay indoors all day, though. All that sun."

"I don't mind," Edythe said, then a frown creased her brow. "Such an appropriate reaction to a gift, Beau. I knew I should have simply ignored your ridiculous injunction."

"Well, they shouldn't have," I admitted. "But this is cool. It'll make my mom happy."

I set down the tickets in the middle seat of the truck, and picked up the one from Edythe and Archie. Moving with care again, I drew back the paper, and tore it off to find a clear CD case, with a blank silver CD inside. I turned it over to see if there was any writing on the back to clue me it, but there was nothing.

"What is it?" I asked.

Edythe's eyes glittered. "You'll see when you get upstairs."

I looked down at her, and suddenly ached at the thought of separating. "So you won't come up?" I said again. I thought about adding it would be nice to have something cold to put against my arm, but that would have involved admitting it was starting to hurt again.

"Not tonight," she said, smiling slightly, though her eyes were distant. "But I will be close by. I'll leave your gifts upstairs so you won't have to carry them."

Her eyes drifted toward the truck windshield, staring out into the darkness.

For some reason, an anxiety flickered in my stomach. "What are you thinking?" I asked before I could stop myself.

She glanced back my way, considering. At last, she said, "Nothing, really. Just about right and wrong."

For some reason, I felt myself wanting to distract her. From whatever dangerous paths her mind was taking. "You know," I said suddenly, "this _is_ my birthday."

"So you've suddenly been reminding me for the last quarter hour."

"So..." I said, trailing off. I leaned a little over the middle seat of the truck, hoping she would get the hint.

"You're really very greedy today, Beau," she murmured, though her mouth curled into a smile.

"Birthday," I said again.

Edythe laughed, then sighed. She looked up at me, and there was something in her golden eyes I didn't understand. A desperation, a flicker of silent agony.

Then she reached up, cupping my face in my hands, and gently drew my face to hers. Our lips touched lightly, and it was like it always was between us. My heart, completely overreacting, her like stone, restrained, careful. She started to pull away, and I prepared to get my heartrate back under control.

However, as I started to reluctantly pull back, I suddenly felt her cold arms around my neck, pulling me against her, lips crushed against mine. I could feel her unnatural strength as she held me to her, her icy fingers in my hair.

Then she abruptly pulled away, pushing my shoulders back.

I fell back, gasping, realizing I'd forgotten to breathe.

"Sorry," she said, and even though vampires didn't need to breathe, she sounded just a little breathless too. "I guess I went a little far."

"No...no problem," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. Then I stopped, as I wanted the lingering coolness of her touch to linger. However, I felt something tug at the back of my mind. A memory just on the edge of my consciousness.

I shook my head, then said hopefully, "One more?"

Edythe smiled. "I think you've pushed your luck far enough already tonight, Beau. You better go get some sleep. I'll leave your presents for you on your desk."

"Okay," I said reluctantly. Casting one last look in her direction, I got out of the truck and headed toward the door.

Inside, I could still hear the murmur of the television, meaning Charlie was still watching the game. Charlie asked about how it had gone, and I answered as best I could. Unfortunately he noticed my arm, which was really starting to bother me again, but I just waved my good arm and made some excuse about tripping, then went on upstairs.

I half hoped Edythe to be there after all, but my shoulders sank as I saw the presents sitting on my desktop, the window open a crack.

Sighing, I changed into my pajamas, went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, which I had to do pretty much one-handed, then returned to my room, downing a couple of Tylenol on the way.

Curiously, I put the CD from Archie and Edythe into the player on my desk. I felt a tear sting my eyes as I heard the familiar lilt of Edythe's classical compositions. I could imagine her fingers flying across the piano, skipping from one key to the next like a dance. This song was my favorite, the one she said she'd written as a kind of lullaby with me in mind.

On the way over to my bed, I snagged my dog-eared copy of _Twenty Leagues Under the Sea_ from my nightstand, hoping for something to help me relax a little. I flipped through the familiar pages of sea monsters and vengeance, as I listened to the quiet music play in the background.

I'd just about fallen asleep with the book beside me when it occurred to me why that last kiss in the truck had felt almost familiar. Last spring, when the two of us had had to separate while Edythe and the others went after the tracker, she had kissed me goodbye, not knowing when—or if—we would ever see each other again. For some reason I couldn't imagine, this had felt almost the same. The same tinge of pain.

It's nothing, I told myself. You're just imagining things again.

But even so, when I at last drifted off, I felt a deep unease settle at the back of my mind.

* * *

A/N: Really not too many changes this chapter, except those changes related to Carine's backstory, and of course one change near the end you might have noticed. I went back and forth on that, but decided to keep the change I made there, as I thought it gave scene more of a feeling of finiteness, or so I thought. (Plus there really needed to be an opportunity to mention of Twenty Leagues Under the Sea somewhere...)

Earlier this week, I was looking at an interview online with Stephanie Meyer related to Life and Death, and I was happy to find quite a few names of counterparts who didn't appear in the book (like Sue Clearwater is Saul Clearwater, Emily is Elliot, Leah is Leland and so on). Weirdly, that same night I had a dream that Stephanie Meyer was doing some kind of event, and I was there. The entire time I was hoping that once the event broke up, there would be an opportunity to go up and talk to her, so I could ask her what Tanya's male counterpart's name was. XD! (I think I must have woken up before actually speaking to her, because I don't remember anything after that...Yes. I think I'm a crazy person, too.)

But, anyway! I should probably throw a bit of a warning out there, there might be a bit of a gap between this chapter and chapter 3...It's one of the most important chapters of the book, so I want to take some time as I'm working on it.

Thanks so much for reading, and let me know what you thought! See you next time!

Posted 12/20/15


	4. The End

A/N: Hey there, I'm back again. Sorry for taking so long on this one, it was the holidays, and I was in a mode to get as far as I could with future rough drafts...

But! In the meantime, I finally figured out how to submit new categories/characters to ffnet support for consideration, so those are all up now. (I've only been on this site for, what...ten years? And I'm only figuring out just now that hitting the 'Help' option at the bottom of the screen actually is quite helpful. x3)

So anyway, if any of you are working on a Life and Death fic, you can now add your characters to help readers find you. There's also now a 'Life and Death' option under the world filter.

Thanks so much for all your wonderful comments last chapter, it means a lot, and hope you're having as much fun as I am. Thanks for reading, and see you at the end!

* * *

Chapter 3: The End

I woke up feeling absolutely lousy. My arm had burned all night and I hadn't gotten much sleep, and my head felt like it was splitting open. I took another dose of Tylenol before I got dressed and went downstairs. Charlie was already gone, and I didn't much feel like eating, so I skipped breakfast and went on out to my truck.

I sat in the seat for a long minute, staring straight ahead without seeing anything. However, I couldn't quite quash the anxiety that had begun to bubble in the pit of my stomach. The events of the previous day kept going around and around in my mind. Edythe's angry face, tinged with conflict and distress at its edges. The feeling of that last kiss and the distant look in her eyes as we parted.

More than likely all this would eventually resolve itself without any special action on my part, and I was probably making things worse by letting it get to me. Yet even so, I couldn't help but wonder what sorts of things had been going through her mind once I fell asleep and she circled alone out in the darkness.

Shaking my head, I started the key in the ignition. Then, with the only barest hint of hesitation, I reached up and fiddled with the knobs on my new stereo, skipping through the stations until I hit a song with plenty of base and heavy metal. In spite of my headache, I cranked up the volume, hoping the sound would drown out my thoughts.

When I turned into the Forks High School parking lot, I scanned the cars apprehensively, almost afraid she wouldn't be there. However, my shoulders sagged with relief as I caught sight of the familiar silver Volvo on the far side. Edythe was there, leaning against it.

I got out quickly, slamming the truck door behind me, and hurried over to her. As I approached, I stayed wary in case she had fallen back into her bad mood from yesterday, though from a distance her posture seemed relaxed.

"Hey," I said cautiously.

Edythe turned her eyes toward me, and I felt my momentary hope that things might just go back to normal slip back down into my stomach.

Edythe didn't look angry or upset. There was no tension in her shoulders or her face. Rather, there was no emotion in her face at all.

"Hey," she replied, and it might have come from an automaton for all the warmth it had. She turned away from me, in the direction of the school. "We better go, we're going to be late for class."

I stood where I was a moment, staring after her, irresolute. However, she didn't stop walking, and I scrambled forward to catch up.

I felt queasy. But there was no point giving myself over to doomsday predictions. She was obviously still upset about yesterday. Better to just let her have some space for the time being, give her some time to work through it.

"How's your arm?" she asked, after I'd been walking beside her for a minute or so. She spoke without turning her head, her eyes on the brick of the school wall in front of us.

"Oh, not bad," I lied. I was glad I'd thought to bring the entire bottle of Tylenol in my bag.

In class, Edythe never once turned in my direction, didn't speak to me. I didn't initiate any more conversation, and instead kept shooting glances back at the clock, desperate for lunch to come so I could find Archie. I really could use a friendly face about now, and maybe I would get an update on how Jessamine was doing.

However, when the bell finally rang and Edythe and I entered the cafeteria, my eyes eagerly scanning the tables, it didn't take long to realize that he wasn't there. We went to sit down at our usual table, and I waited impatiently for a bit. But when the last of the students from his period filtered in, and he was not among them, I finally turned to Edythe and broke the morning-long silence.

"Hey, where's Archie?" I said, as casually as I could. "He here today?" However, I was afraid I already knew the answer.

Edythe's expression was vaguely bored, staring off out one of the high cafeteria windows. It was a minute before she replied.

"No...he isn't. He's with Jessamine."

"Oh," I said. My eyes flickered away to hide my disappointment. "How's she doing, by the way?"

"She's gone away for awhile."

This made me pause. "What? Where?"

Edythe's eyes were still on one of the cafeteria's high windows, as though the conversation barely interested her. "Nowhere in particular."

"I see." It made sense. If Jessamine wanted to get away for a while, Archie would be there every step of the way as support. Still, if Edythe didn't let up soon, life was really going to suck without Archie there to lighten the mood and periodically try to talk sense into her.

"He'll be gone awhile," Edythe continued. "He was trying to convince her to go to Denali."

"Oh," I said. I remembered Denali; another band of vampires lived there who, like Carine and the Cullens, had chosen a life of denial, abstaining from preying on humans. Edythe had taken a trip there some time back, when my arrival in Forks had made it difficult for her.

I felt my brow crease slightly in guilt. Royal and Eleanor were gone too, I suspected because Royal couldn't stomach being around me, and now Archie and Jessamine were gone too. I was like a plague.

For the first time, Edythe's eyes flickered to me, and she seemed to read the pain in my face. "How's your arm?" she asked, her voice a touch concerned, but her bored, remote expression unchanged.

I could feel some of my fear turning to frustration now—I wondered just how long she could keep this up. "Fine," I said, a little more sharply than I meant to. "Just peachy."

Edythe shrugged indifferently, then went back to staring vaguely out the window. However, as I returned my attention to my food, which I was definitely not hungry for, I noticed Edythe studying me out of the corner of her eye. Not with an expression I was used to—her brow was furrowed, as though she were trying to calculate a difficult math problem, or grasp a new, unfamiliar concept. When I turned to look back at her, her eyes went back to the window. For some reason I could not explain, that look in her eyes when she looked at me troubled me far more than when she was ignoring me.

By the end of the day, I was feeling tired and irritable, and I had about had it with the perpetual silent treatment.

"So," I said as we walked out to my truck. "Will you be coming over later tonight?"

Edythe glanced vaguely in my direction, and her distracted expression betrayed a hint of surprise. "Later?"

"Yeah," I said. "I've got work today. I had to trade shifts to get yesterday off."

"Oh." Her eyes once again wandered back to the space in front of her, thoughts far away.

"So," I said, injecting a bright note into my tone, determined to exact an actual promise. "You'll meet me at my house when I get off work today. Right?"

"If you'd like."

"Course I would." I forced my mouth to spread into a smile.

We stood there for a moment, silent but for the murmur of the crowds as everyone headed out. At last I said awkwardly, "Well, I'll see you later, then."

"See you," she said, turning back to the Volvo.

As I drove to the Newton's sporting goods store, I felt the sense of unease I had been carrying around in my stomach all day harden into a knot. What was going on? Was this really all about yesterday? Or was there something else I was missing?

I decided the only thing to do was to take a step back, take stock of the situation. Give my mind something to focus on besides these vague worries.

There was no question that what had happened yesterday was going to affect things. Edythe had told me from the beginning that it wasn't responsible for me to be hanging around a whole house of vampires. So maybe she wouldn't want me to see her family anymore, or go to the Cullen's house. I would hate that, but I could deal with it, if that was best for the family once they all go back. I'd still see Archie at school, and maybe he'd still visit at Charlie's house. For my part, I didn't really feel like much had happened—compared to last spring, nothing really _had_ happened. But if it made Edythe feel better, I could agree to it.

Or maybe, at the end of the school year, it would be better for Edythe and I to go away entirely, so her family wouldn't have to stay so spread out, and I wouldn't have to be a incessant reminder of Jessamine's momentary lapse of control. The two of us could go to college, or pretend that's what we were doing. A year wouldn't be so long.

Examining the possibilities and making potential plans had me feeling better by the time I reached the store. McKayla was already there, and she smiled and waved at me as I came in. I grabbed my vest from the rack, giving her a vague smile, still distracted.

"How was your birthday?" McKayla asked as I approached the register.

I glanced over at her, then looked away. "I'm glad it's over," I muttered.

McKayla's brow crinkled, bemused, and she didn't ask me any more about yesterday.

The clock on the wall inched around the circuit like a snail. Several times I was sure it had stopped altogether. In spite of Edythe's cool attitude toward me all day, I was impatient to see her again, hoping she might have come out of her mood by the time I got back to my place. When work let out and I turned my truck onto my street, I sagged with relief when I saw Edythe was already there, her silver car parked on the curb outside my house.

I got quickly out of my truck and practically jogged to the front door. I kicked off my shoes inside, then hurried into the living room, where I could hear the theme music from ESPN's SportsCenter.

"Hey, Dad, I'm home. Hey—Hey, Edythe."

My dad was sitting on the couch, watching the game. Edythe was curled up in the armchair, a book open in front of her, world records of biggest fish caught which I'd gotten Charlie for a birthday present, her eyes glued to the page as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Hey, Beau," Charlie answered, eyes still on the television. "We just had cold pizza. I think it's still on the table."

"Sure...thanks."

I continued to stand there awkwardly in the doorway.

Edythe turned a page of the full-color illustrations of bass and trout, then slowly raised her eyes to me, as though reluctant to look away from her reading. For a moment I saw a touch of confusion there, her brow furrowed in concentration, as though trying to remember something. However, whatever it was, she couldn't seem to quite grab hold of it, and when her lips finally turned up in a smile, the cool distance in her eyes was unchanged.

"I'll be right with you," she said vaguely, then her eyes slipped back down to the book.

"Yeah...yeah, okay."

I turned and trudged to the kitchen. There I stood next to the counter for a minute, staring down at the pizza without seeing it. Finally, I slid down into a chair, gripping my hands together and bending my head. I pressed my forehead against my white knuckles, and it took me a moment to realize I was shaking slightly.

Something was wrong here. Completely wrong. I felt it deep in my gut, in a way that I couldn't entirely explain to myself.

I tried to shake it off, and mentally repeated the possibilities I'd gone through earlier today. She might tell me that I had to stay away from the rest of her family from now on. That might include Archie, too, especially if he was away with Jessamine for a long time. She might tell me she wanted to leave—give her scattered family members a chance to reassemble. Maybe she didn't want to wait until the end of the school, maybe she would want it to be now.

For me to take off that abruptly would make the transition harder on Charlie, and I wondered if I'd be allowed to see my mom again, or if leaving with Edythe would mean a more permanent separation from both of them.

That would be rough, but even so, I'd made up my mind. My path was set, and whatever sacrifices I had to make along the way, I would willingly make them. Wherever it took me, my future was with Edythe—as long as I could rely on that, I could deal with anything else.

Sighing, my gaze fell on the photobook and camera sitting on the kitchen table, the gifts from my parents. I slipped a finger under the black cover of the photobook, and flipped it back, looking at the empty spaces for photos. It suddenly occurred to me that, if we were going to be leaving soon, maybe I should start getting some pictures. It would be nice to have some record of the time I'd spent here.

Detecting no sign of movement in the front room, I stole upstairs as quietly as I could, and got a snapshot of my room. I got a little nostalgic as I realized that it really hadn't changed much in the seventeen years I'd been using it. Then I reluctantly went back down, walking slowly to delay seeing Edythe again, and the distant look in her eyes. I reminded myself to just give her some space. Whatever she was going to ask me to do, she probably knew it would be hard. I'd leave her to herself, so she could work up to it.

I figured Edythe would notice when I quietly approached the living room door, camera raised in front of me like a weapon. However, her eyes didn't move. Forcing myself to ignore the ice in my stomach, I snapped the photo.

The two of them did look around then, Charlie frowning at me, Edythe's expression like marble.

"Hey," Charlie said. "What was that for?"

I forced myself to look more cheerful than I felt. "Come on, Dad, you know Mom. She'll be shooting me emails demanding to know if I've been using my stuff yet before long. I figured I'd take the initiative and shock her."

His frown deepened. "But why am I in the picture?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You bought camera. You're in it."

He grumbled to himself.

"Hey, Edythe," I said casually, not meeting her eyes. "Would you take one of me and my dad?"

Edythe set the book aside, and I handed her the camera. I sat on the edge of the sofa, putting an arm around Charlie's shoulder in a kind of half bro hug. He sighed like a martyr.

"Smile, Beau," Edythe murmured.

I did my best, and the light flashed.

"Let me get one of you two together," Charlie suggested, eager to escape being one of the subjects.

Edythe stood smoothly from the armchair, reaching out to turn over the camera.

I went to stand beside her, and I felt her slip an arm around my waist, but her hand barely touched my side. I put my arm around her shoulder, gripping a little more tightly than was probably necessary.

"Smile, Beau," Charlie reminded me again.

I forced my mouth to spread into another smile, and stared into the camera. The flash blinded me, and I blinked.

"That's it for tonight," Charlie announced, stuffing the camera between the seat cushions and sitting down to guard it. "You don't want to use the whole roll now."

Edythe pulled away from me smoothly.

Charlie glanced over at us. "You kids don't have to sit and watch this. You can go do something you'll enjoy." He looked pointedly at me, as if I'd been trying to force her to watch sports.

"No, I think I'd better be going home now anyway," said Edythe, smiling wanly. "School in the morning."

Charlie looked surprised. Edythe had come here to wait for me, and I'd only just gotten there. However, he didn't comment.

"All right then," he said with a shrug, though he still looked confused. "Be careful on the way home. Beau can walk you to your car."

"Thank you," she said, dipping her head politely.

I followed, rather than walked, Edythe to her car.

"Will you come back?" I asked in a low voice. However, I already knew the answer.

"Not tonight," she said. No explanation—not that I'd expected one.

I watched the silver car pull away from the curb, and stared after it until it was long out of sight. I stood there for a long time, staring out at the empty road, and I didn't even notice when it began to drizzle, then rain, soaking my hair and dripping down my face. My stupor was only interrupted when I heard the house door creak open behind me.

"Beau?" Charlie called. "What are you doing?"

I shook my head, feeling droplets of water fall from my hair. "Nothing." I turned and walked past him into the house.

I didn't get much rest that night. Instead I tossed and turned as dreams filled with shadowy forms and glittering sunlight that was always just out of reach played at the edges of my consciousness.

When I finally got up, before the sun had broken the horizon, my body ached and my mouth was bone dry. I tried to listen to some of Edythe's music as I slowly got into my clothes, but if anything, that only intensified the low buzz of anxiety at the back of my head, and I turned it off. After I had a bowl of cereal, I decided it was light enough out to continue my photobook project. I got one of my truck, the front of the house, and the forest, which had seemed so dark and eerie when I'd first come to Forks, and now felt more like an old friend.

I stuffed the camera in my school bag, deciding I would focus on my documenting project to distract myself from how uncomfortable things were with Edythe. Time, I kept telling myself. She just needs time. Don't bug her. Let her go at her own pace.

Still, I wondered just how much longer this could last, and how much more I could take before I went crazy. This vague anxiety that something wasn't right, this anticipation that something unpleasant was just around the corner but not sure what it was—it was torture in a way that having definite knowledge of something bad that was going to happen wouldn't be.

I headed to school, and when I got there I found Edythe unchanged, perhaps even cooler and more distant than she had been the previous day.

She was waiting for me in the parking lot as always, but after a mechanical greeting, she was silent as the grave. The quiet weighed on me like a physical force, but I was afraid to break it. At lunch, Edythe still said nothing, so for once I leaned across the invisible line that always separated our side of the table from the others to talk to Jeremy.

"Hey, Jer?"

He glanced my way. "Yeah, man?"

I forced a grin. "Do me a favor, would you? I'm supposed to get some pictures of everybody—for my mom, you know." I rummaged in my school bag, until I found the camera.

"Sure, man," said Jeremy, with a bit of a wicked grin.

Before long they were handing the camera around, each trying to catch the others at awkward moments. Only when McKayla got a hold of it did she make an effort to get some decent shots, though I noticed she seemed keen on catching Jeremy from below the chin, where I was sure his nostrils would be featured prominently. Partway through summer McKayla and Jeremy had broken up, and they were still in that awkward post-relationship phase, sort of friends again, but with a bit of an edge.

When the camera finally made it back to me, all the film was used up.

"Sorry, man," said Jeremy.

I shrugged. "This is good. I already got everything else I wanted anyway."

When school let out, again Edythe walked with me outside, her gaze still focused straight ahead, silent, not even breaking the quiet to ask about my arm.

I had work again that day, and for once I was almost glad of it, just to get away and give Edythe time to herself. I decided there was no point delaying getting the pictures done, considering I had no idea what the near future would bring, so I dropped the roll of film from the camera off at the Thriftway, then picked it up again on the way back home.

When I reached the house, I went upstairs so I could get a look at them. I tore into the envelope at once, then hesitated, almost afraid the very first print wouldn't do her justice. However, my curiosity got the better of me, and I slipped them out.

I was startled as my eyes fell on the first photograph. Far from being a pale imitation, the photo captured Edythe's otherworldly beauty down to the last detail. But what was more than that was her expression. Her eyes twinkled with cheer and warmth that had been wholly absent the past few days.

I went through the stack once, picking out two more of the photos I'd taken. The one of Edythe sitting with the fishing book in the living room while Charlie watched ESPN, and the last one of the two of us standing side by side.

In the first, her eyes were cast down, and she could have been an ice sculpture for all the emotion in her features. The third one was just plain embarrassing to look at. I usually did my best not to think about how mismatched we were, how beautiful, how perfect she was next to clunky, ridiculously ordinary me. But the photo seemed to slap me in the face with it. I focused again on Edythe's expression. Her lips were turned up in a smile, but her eyes were no different than in the other picture. Distant, statue-like.

I ditched out doing my homework, and instead stayed up to put all the photographs into the black book, labeling each accordingly. When I was done, I put the second copy of the photos I'd gotten printed into an envelope, and wrote a letter to my mom to go with them.

When I was done, I turned to take one last look out the window, somehow hoping Edythe would appear there, ready for a nice, long talk. But of course she didn't. More restless and edgy than ever, I picked up _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_ , where it was still sitting beside my pillow, and flipped through it aimlessly for a minute before I gave up and got up to turn off the light. I laid on my bed in the darkness, staring out the window, my thoughts racing, my anxiety twisting them around in circles until I finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

The next day at school was, again, no different than the previous day. Cold, silence. The few times Edythe looked briefly in my direction, she would frown slightly as she had before, but her eyes never met mine—instead they would study me like she might study an object, without any particular connection or emotion.

I kept telling myself I was letting myself take her silence and general behavior too personally. This was just her way of dealing when she was worried and upset—isolation and shutdown. But even so, it still turned my stomach whenever I glanced at her, and took in her expression. Bored, restless. As though there were somewhere else she'd rather be.

The thing that had instigated all this felt like an eternity ago, and by now I would have given anything to get a minute to see Archie. Archie could be reasonable, and I knew he would help me out any way he could. He would be able to illuminate at least part of what was going through Edythe's mind, and perhaps even give me an idea of what she was planning to do, which would have at least given me an idea of what to expect.

But I knew the chance of his coming back anytime soon was almost nil, so I made up my mind that, if something didn't change, I'd go see Carine tomorrow. I couldn't just sit back and passively let this go on. I had to find out what was going on with Edythe, what our plans were. Of course I would try to talk things out with Edythe first—even if we ended up in a shouting match, I figured it would be better than this—but if she remained cool and unresponsive, then I'd take the case to Carine.

After school, as Edythe walked with me out to my truck as always, I mentally prepared myself for what I was going to say, how to start the conversation. However, oddly, it was Edythe who spoke first.

"Would you mind if I came over today?" she asked politely.

"Sure," I said, too surprised to think of anything else to say.

"Now?" she pressed.

"Yeah...sure," I said, though for some reason I couldn't imagine, I suddenly wanted to say no. There was something in her icy features that suddenly made my stomach tighten with nerves. "I'm just going to drop a letter for my mom in the mailbox on the way, and I'll meet you there."

Edythe extended her hand toward me, palm up. "I'll do it," she said. "And I'll still beat you there." The corners of her mouth turned up in that smile that always put me in a daze, her dimples showing, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Okay," I said, reaching up into the truck to retrieve the envelope and handing it over. "See you there."

Wordlessly she turned her back on me, returning to her car. I watched her go for a minute, then got into my truck.

Edythe did make it home before I did, and I saw her silver car parked in Charlie's spot. I could only guess that meant she didn't intend to stay long. I shook my head, trying to locate the resolve I'd made that day to talk things out.

Edythe emerged from her car as I pulled up, and she approached the truck.

I opened the door, grabbing my bag and starting to climb out.

She reached across me and put a hand on my bag. "Leave it," she said, voice toneless. She offered me her hand, palm up. "Let's go for a walk."

I didn't take it at first. Instead, I just stared back at her, a fear I couldn't put a name to curling around my chest. Alarms were going off in my head.

However, Edythe reached over and took my hand anyway, and pulled me forward. She took me toward the east side of the yard, toward the forest. I dragged my feet, feeling my sense of foreboding mount.

We'd only gone a few steps along the trail when she came to an abrupt stop. The house was still visible through the trees.

Edythe turned to face me.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself.

"We're leaving," she said shortly.

I'd mentally prepared for that one, but the thought of leaving Charlie was still enough to knock the breath out of me, and I still had to ask. "Why now? Another year wouldn't—"

"Beau, it's time," she said, cutting across me. "We couldn't stay in Forks much longer anyway. Carine is claiming to be thirty-three now—it's already a stretch to make people believe she's past twenty-nine. It's time for us to start over."

I blinked, confused by that answer. In my head, I'd pictured Edythe and I going away together, so that her family could live here in peace. That explanation didn't make sense.

As I stared into her cool eyes, I suddenly froze. All this time, I'd been off base. I'd thought it would be Edythe and I leaving—but Edythe meant she was leaving with her family. Leaving me behind.

When I'd found my voice again, I said quietly, "That's not the reason. You know it's not. Leaving, such short notice like this. One more year wouldn't make a difference." I took a breath, then added, "But if you do have to go now—I'll come with you. I'm ready."

"You can't, Beau," Edythe said evenly. "Where we're going is no place for you."

I shook my head. "I want to be wherever you are, Edythe. I mean—how can you not know that by now?"

"I'm not right for you, Beau."

I was still shaking my head. Trying to shake off her words, before they could reach my mind, and sink in. I could feel the barest beginnings of anger, hovering just on the edge of my mind, but it couldn't seem to make its way in past the hard lumps of fear now congealing there.

"You are right for me," I insisted. "Before—Before I met you, my life was—it was completely hollow. Empty. It wasn't..." I kept shaking my head, as words large enough to describe my feelings escaped me.

"My world is not right for you," she said.

"Look," I said. "What happened with Jessamine—that was nothing, Edythe. Absolutely nothing."

She nodded slowly. "You're right. It was exactly what was to be expected."

I could feel the panic beginning to claw its way up my throat. My voice sounded too high as I said suddenly, my voice choked as I accused, "You swore to me. When we were in Phoenix, you said—"

"—that I would stay, as long as it was best for you," she finished. "I haven't forgotten."

Something finally punched through the block that had been keeping everything inside, and the tightness in my throat was gone. I said suddenly, my voice hard, though still with a tinge of desperation, "This is about my soul, isn't it? Carine told me what you think. It's stupid, of course you have a soul. You couldn't make choices about right and wrong without one. And even if you don't—I made up my mind, okay? I have a choice, and I want to be with you."

Edythe stared back at me for a moment, then her eyes dropped. I saw flickers of emotions I couldn't identify. Her mouth twisted, and she closed her eyes, the delicate skin creasing between her brows. When she opened her eyes again, they were almost apologetic.

She gave a soft laugh, though it was devoid of humor, and her shoulders slumped. "Oh, Beau," she said, and though there was just a touch of the old affection, something in it made my blood freeze. "It's not about that."

She looked up at me, and I could see clearly this time the conflicting emotions in her gold eyes. Guilt most of all—but not the kind of guilt I'd seen in her face when Joss was on my trail or when she'd seen me lying on the ballet room floor, broken and bleeding. Not the anguished or vulnerable look of someone with a personal stake in my future, who wanted— _needed_ forgiveness. Rather she looked at me with the remote, distant eyes of a stranger.

"Beau," she said quietly. "You must understand, this...this just can't work between us. You don't belong in our world, and I don't belong in yours. I'm so tired, Beau. I'm tired of pretending to be a human when I'm not. Constantly tried, constantly fighting my instincts, constantly walking on tiptoes around things made of glass."

I stared at her, not sure how to respond. I felt like every insecurity I'd ever had about our relationship was suddenly coming to the forefront of my mind, striking knives through my chest.

Edythe's eyes were full of remorse. "I know I've said so many irresponsible things over the past several months. Back at the house, with Jessamine—that was a wakeup call. It forced me to stop, and really examine myself for the first time. Myself, and my real motives in all this, that all this time I've been too stubborn to see."

Her lips twisted in a hard, self-reproaching smile. "I never realized teenage infatuation could be so overpowering—so deceptive. I allowed myself to get carried away, imagining such silly things as destiny and eternal love, of love crossing all barriers. But for us, two people from two different worlds, it was never anything more than a passing fantasy. We aren't connected as I fooled myself into believing we were. I don't relate to the things of your world, Beau, and any effort on my part to appear so is no more than an empty facade, a game. And I know you can't relate to mine—I tell you of the danger, the rules, but you don't really understand it, and you can't help me shoulder the burden of living in it. I ought to have seen all that from the start, but instead I indulged a whim, an irresponsible impulse, and I despise myself now for allowing it to get this far."

By the end of this I was bursting to speak, and I blurted before the last word was out, "Then change me. Make me like you. Then none of that will be a problem, right? We'll be a part of the same world. You won't have to slow down for me anymore."

Edythe looked up at me, and at the apology in her distant eyes, I suddenly knew. My brain finally caught up to the vague sense of fear I had been carrying around for the last few days, and I knew what was going to happen. And there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.

"Beau..." she said slowly, gently. "You have to understand. And you must believe me, I am very sorry to have done this, to have made an error of this magnitude. I didn't set out expressly to hurt you. I meant the things I said—or at least, at the time I said them, I sincerely believed them to be true. But...when I stopped to take a close look at myself, I realized I didn't understand my feelings at all. How shallow and baseless they were. You see, Beau, the reason I...first took such an interest in you...to begin with, it was simply a test of my own strength. Because for some inexplicable reason, your blood drew me like no one else's, and I wanted to prove to myself I could fight it, resist it. Then it was because I couldn't read your mind like the others. You were a puzzle to me, a mystery, and your blood was so alluring—How can I say this? It was _because_ you were a human, a fragile human, that you fascinated me so. But—and I despise myself for coming to realize this so late—that's not love. It was never love in the sense that you think of love. You're not a partner I rely on, rather you were something like a pet—an exotic pet from an alien world, even though I fooled myself into thinking it was something else. I enjoyed taking care of you, pampering you, but that was all. If you were to become a vampire, Beau, you would join our world, but you would lose all interest for me."

I stared at her. I couldn't feel my body beneath me, only my head, which was empty, devoid of any meaningful thought. However, when I spoke, my voice was surprisingly steady.

"I see. I guess that makes sense."

Edythe gazed back at me, her glorious features sorrowful, ridden with guilt. "I'm sorry, Beau," she said. "You're a good, kind human, and you deserved better than this. I took you for a ride and jerked you around—so much could have been avoided if only I had shown better judgment. I'm disgusted with myself."

I shook my head, silently protesting her self-recriminations. "Please...you do what you have to do. Don't ever feel bad...as long as it's what's best for you." I vaguely felt my mouth turn up in a smile, but it felt distant, like it was someone else in control of the muscles of my face.

"I'm sorry, Beau," she said again, very softly, and her eyes were distant. "When I realized the truth...it was gone. I couldn't pretend to be who I was before for you anymore."

I nodded, again feeling like I was watching myself from a distance.

She started to turn away, then paused, looking back at me. "One more thing, Beau," she said quietly. "Before I go. Swear something to me."

"Sure," I mumbled, voice hoarse.

Her penitent eyes turned slightly hard. "What you said before," she said. "About how Romeo and Juliet is just a play, and running off to kill yourself is stupid. You were right, the thought was overly romantic, silly. So...even if the way I've treated you does make you feel down for the next while...don't do anything stupid yourself. Remember Charlie, remember your mother."

I nodded distantly. "Yeah...don't worry about me."

"And I will swear something to you in return," she said, with vehemence. "I swear that I will not return here. I will never, Beau, ever do something like this again, to you or anyone else. Return to your normal life, Beau, and live it out the way it should have been, if I hadn't come along and interfered. I promise you, Beau, it will be as though I never existed."

Her smile was gentle, though her eyes were still remote. "Don't worry, Beau," she said softly. "You're human—I think you'll find time heals all wounds for your kind."

"And you?" I asked.

She smiled slightly. "I won't forget. I won't forget the lesson I've learned here. But I'll be fine—too fine in light of what I've done—it will be good for me to get back to my normal way of life. There are plenty of distractions for my kind."

She took a step back. "That's everything, I suppose. Like I said, we won't bother you again."

My mind was too blank, my body too numb, to react to the plural. "Archie isn't coming back," I said dully.

Edythe nodded slowly. "They're all gone. I stayed behind to explain everything. Archie wanted to say goodbye, but I convinced him a clean break was best."

I didn't know what to say. It was all crashing down on me, and my empty head spun. I didn't know how I stayed standing, but I felt like my feet were held to the ground by metal weights.

"Goodbye, Beau," Edythe said softly.

I stared at her beautiful, perfect face, and suddenly the pain broke over me, and I felt my face crumple.

"Wait," I pleaded, my voice hoarse. I stretched out my arms in front of me like a sleepwalker.

She stepped back smoothly, out of my reach. "Take care of yourself, Beau," she breathed.

I closed my eyes against the pain, and felt a cool breeze on my face. When my eyes opened again, she was gone.

I took a step forward, my legs carrying me forward mechanically, like a robot. I didn't know what I was doing, where I was going, but I couldn't do anything else.

In all the romance movies my mom had ever forced me to watch, when a girl left, the guy had to follow and find a way to bring her back. Because no matter what she said, she really wanted him to follow. That was the rule. But even as I scrambled through the forest, on and on, shoving back branches and stepping over logs as the the light in the sky overhead faded, I knew that didn't apply here. Edythe wasn't an ordinary girl, and couldn't be followed like an ordinary girl. I could only ever follow Edythe when she slowed down enough to let me follow, and she was tired of me following her. It was over. All over.

I kept going, not paying attention to where the path was, and I tripped over unseen obstacles more than once. The sky continued to darken as the sun touched the horizon, then dropped behind it, until it faded to pitch black. At last, my foot caught on something and I went down hard. I rolled onto my back, but this time, I didn't bother to get back up. I couldn't see anyway.

Vaguely, I wondered why it was so dark. Were the treetops really able to shut out the moonlight so completely? Or perhaps there was no moon tonight—a lunar eclipse, a new moon.

I shivered.

I'd been there I didn't know how long when I thought I heard voices calling my name. I wasn't entirely sure if I really heard them, or if I was dreaming. I couldn't seem to make my voice work to answer them. However, I slowly forced myself to sit up, feeling the debris of the forest floor clinging to my shirt, and crawled over to sit with my back to a tree. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the bark. I felt a droplet on my face, and I opened my eyes to see that it had begun to rain.

I suddenly heard something close by. A snuffling sound, interspersed with a kind of heavy breathing. It sounded like a wild animal, big. Maybe a bear, or a mountain lion. Maybe that should have scared me, but I didn't react. Even though the sound was feet away, it felt distant, unimportant.

The animal apparently wasn't hungry, as it slowly turned away, and the sound faded into the forest. I closed my eyes again.

I don't know how long I sat where I was when I again heard a sound, this time the crunch of footsteps over the patter of the rain. I opened my eyes to see a bright light shining nearby.

"Beau?" said a voice.

I lethargically tilted my head up to see who had spoken. The russet face I looked into was vaguely familiar to me somehow, but I couldn't put a name to it.

The figure knelt down before me, deep set, dark eyes gazing at me with concern. "Beau, are you all right? Have you been hurt?"

Somehow, I managed to find a voice. "Who are you?" I rasped.

The figure before me was a woman, tall and lean, with strong arms, hair cropped short in an almost military style. Her eyes seemed to search my face for...for something.

"My name is Samantha Uley, Beau. I'm from the reservation. Your father Charlie was worried something happened. We've been looking for you."

Charlie, my dad. Like a little kid, I suddenly had the overwhelming need to see him.

"Oh," I mumbled.

She stretched out a hand for me to take. "Are you all right, Beau? Can you stand?"

I wasn't sure. I looked up at her vaguely, and her worry only seemed to grow. However, at last, I took her hand, and she pulled me to my feet with surprising strength. I wobbled for a moment, and she caught me, then swiftly put one of my arms over her shoulder to support me.

"No," I mumbled. "No, I'm...okay. I can walk."

However, she ignored me, and turned in one direction of black forest that looked to me to be the same as any other direction, then started forward, half carrying me along beside her.

Maybe it was my warped sense of time, but we seemed to reach the edge of the forest very quickly after that, and before long we had broken the edge of the trees to find a large cluster of people standing nearby.

"I've got him," Samantha called. "He's here. I think he's okay, just a little out of it."

I was immediately surrounded by a large group, all talking at once. Their voices seemed to meld together and didn't make sense. However, one voice called my name that stood out from the others.

"Beau, son, are you all right?"

I turned my eyes vaguely around the crowd, until I found the face I was looking for. "Hey, Charlie," I said, but my voice came out slurred and scratchy, like a dying car engine. Samantha still had one of my arms around her shoulder, and I was leaning heavily against her. I probably looked like a drunkard.

There was a shifting of my weight, and the next thing I knew my support went from a lean but muscular form to a larger form in a heavy jacket. I heard Charlie grunt under my weight, but then shifted me again, and set off, me dragging my feet along beside him.

"We're just going to the house," he muttered. "Hang on, son, hang on—"

He turned sideways as we passed over the threshold, and the next thing I knew I was on the couch in the living room. I knew as I fell into it that I was getting leaves and dirt all over the material, and I considered protesting, but I couldn't seem to get the words out.

"Beau?"

I heard a new voice, and I looked up to see a gray-haired man leaning over me. It took me a minute to remember that I knew his name.

"Dr...Gerandy?" I managed to get out.

He nodded, looking very kind. "That's right, son. Tell me, are you hurt?"

There was something about the question that made me blink sluggishly, frowning in confusion. Hadn't Samantha Uley just asked me that? But she had asked something different. _Have you been hurt?_ she had said.

Dr. Gerandy was waiting for my answer. I forced my brain to work.

"No...I'm okay," I said slowly.

He shone a light in my eyes, and placed a kind of boxy device up near my mouth, then checked the reading. He looked back up at me, then asked gently, "What happened?"

I opened my mouth automatically to respond. But nothing came out. I could feel something at the back of my mind, trying to take over. I didn't want to think. Not about that.

"Did you accidentally stray off the path and lose your way?" he continued.

I noticed then that there were several other people in the room. Several women with dark faces like that of Samantha Uley. From La Push, the Quileute Indian reservation down on the coastline, I guessed. McKayla's father Mr. Newton was there too, along with Mr. Weber, Allen's dad. I heard voices in the kitchen, too. A lot of people had been out looking for me. Normally I probably would have been embarrassed. But I wasn't up for feeling much of anything at the moment.

"Yeah," I muttered. "I...took a wrong turn...couldn't find my way back."

Dr. Gerandy nodded, fingers probing the glands under my jaw gently. "Do you feel tired at all?" he asked.

I nodded, and couldn't even find the strength to speak. I sat where I was, eyes half lidded, only vaguely aware of my surroundings. At some point Charlie and Dr. Gerandy moved away from the couch, speaking in low voices.

"No, you're right, he hasn't been drinking," Gerandy was saying quietly. "As far as I can tell, it's just exhaustion. Let him sleep for now, and I will be back to check on him tomorrow morning—" He checked his watch. "Well, later this morning," he amended.

The two of them were still moving, and were almost out of earshot when Charlie asked, "Is it true? Did they leave?"

"Dr. Cullen asked us not to say anything," Dr. Gerandy answered. "The offer was very sudden, and a decision had to be made quickly. Carine didn't want a big production made of her leaving, as much for her children's sakes as her own."

"I see," said Charlie in a lower voice still.

I didn't try to hear anymore. I didn't need to.

I don't know if I fell asleep. I seemed to drift in and out of awareness, hearing Charlie thanking volunteers and informing everyone who called that I'd been found okay. At last the phone calls died down, and Charlie settled himself in the armchair nearby, finally ready to get some rest.

I turned my eyes to the window, and saw somewhere through the rain that the sky was beginning to lighten. Automatically, I forced myself to sit up, lifting a hand to my head where it ached. In spite of his own probable exhaustion, Charlie was immediately up and at my side.

"Beau?" he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

That was a question I didn't want to answer, and I only shook my head. "How...How did you know where to find me?" I asked.

Charlie looked at me, surprised. "The note you left." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a grubby piece of paper, unfolding it so I could see what was written there.

 _Gone for a walk with Edythe up the path. Back soon, Beau._ It was a fair approximation of my untidy handwriting.

Charlie added gruffly, "That was smart. It's good to let people know where you are, just in case...in case something like this happens."

The room was silent for a long moment, Charlie standing awkwardly beside the couch, me staring at nothing. At last he asked in a low voice, "What happened, Beau? With Edythe."

The sound of the name spoken aloud made me flinch, and suddenly something that had been only a dull, distant throb suddenly exploded in my chest. My eyes dropped to the floor.

"When you didn't come back," Charlie continued, "I called the Cullens. No one answered, so I called the hospital next, to see if I could get a hold of Carine. That was when Dr. Gerandy told me they were gone. Apparently Carine got a good offer at a big hospital in Los Angeles. She'll really be able to use her talents there, only it's a shame it had to be such short notice. But I suppose Edythe told you that."

I felt another sharp stab in my chest at the name, and closed my eyes. Sunny L.A.—The last place they would really go. "No..." I mumbled. "No, I didn't know."

I felt Charlie grip my shoulder again, more tightly this time. "What did she say?" he asked, and his voice was more gentle than I'd ever heard it.

I couldn't answer. Somehow, at the kindness in his tone the burning in my chest only seemed to intensify. Not looking at him, I got up from the couch, moving so quickly I felt my head spin, and Charlie reached out an arm to steady me.

My throat was tight, my eyes burning, and I pushed blindly past him and lurched my way up the stairs, half running, half tripping as I went. I turned into my room and, as soon as I was there, locked it behind me.

I stood there for a moment, leaning back against the wood, concentrating on breathing deeply and evenly, my eyes closed.

Words she had spoken played back through my mind.

" _It will be as though I never existed..."_

I remembered the note left for Charlie, that someone must have been in the house to leave it. And I knew.

I went to the CD player, where I'd left the silver disc with all her compositions. It was empty. I picked up the black photobook where I had left it on the desk. As I drew back the black cover, I found the photos I'd placed there and labeled were gone, as though they had never been there. There was no point looking for anything else—I knew it was all gone.

I staggered back a step, and the backs of my legs hit the side of the bed. I sank down onto the mattress, my head bowing toward my hands, clenched together. My eyes drifted briefly to the well-worn copy of _Twenty Leagues Under the Sea_ , still sitting on my bed where I'd left it the last couple nights as I'd tried to distract myself—distract myself from what then I had not yet known to fear.

Numbly, without thinking, I reached out for it, and took it in my hands. The worn binding fell open automatically to the last passage I had read.

 _My strength was exhausted. My fingers stiffened, my hand afforded me support no longer—my mouth, convulsively opening, filled with salt water._

I stared at the words. Something was clawing at my throat, burning in my eyes. My mouth opened, but no sound escaped me. I couldn't feel the fingers attached to my hand, and the book slipped through them, falling to the floor with a thud. But I didn't hear it in the all-consuming silence that encased me. I only heard the gasping, as my mouth opened, but my lungs took in no air. The words from the book continued in my mind. Not in the comforting, familiar way they had a thousand times before, but as a death sentence.

 _Cold crept over me. I raised my head for the last time, then I sank._

* * *

A/N: So! Some more significant changes this chapter, especially compared to the last chapter. (But you know it all leads to the same place anyway. ;j )

This was definitely one of the chapters I was most looking forward to writing and working on; after all, it is one of the defining chapters of New Moon. (Naturally, that made it a bear to edit, and even after I decided I was going to call it done, I still questioned some of the decisions. But, by now I've accepted that's just the way I am, and I loved doing it anyway.)

Note: I left Dr. Gerandy the same as in the original, since I thought it might be pretty unbelievable for _all_ the doctors in Forks to be female. (If Dr. Snow is mentioned, he'll also be left a guy.) Second note: any quotes from books I use, the punctuation might be changed to suit the effect I'm going for.

Thanks so much for reading! If you like, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! :J

Posted 1/5/16


	5. Resurfacing

A/N: Back! Yes, I took a long time again...I felt like this chapter wasn't quite working for some reason, and I got distracted forging ahead with rough drafts of future chapters. (I figure the farther I can get ahead now, while I'm still riding the high of inspiration, the better. I've gotten farther than I expected now, though I think I nearly cried when I saw Eclipse was over six hundred pages. XD!)

In other news, I also finally got around to finishing up the cover art for both this and the Twilight alternate ending, so those are up now. (It was a good opportunity to take the new tablet I got for Christmas for a test drive. The improved pressure sensitivity and larger work surface really do seem to make a significant difference in stroke quality for digital paintings, though I sped through them kind of fast anyway, since I figured they'd probably really only be viewed at a smaller size.)

Anyway, thanks so much for reading so far. I'm really hoping to improve with practice as we get further in, though I expect there to be quite a few rough patches too. (Ie, this chapter.) Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end!

* * *

Chapter 4: Resurfacing

Submerged in dark waters, unable to breathe. Perhaps only minutes left to live—but in those minutes, each second lasts an agonizing eternity. No catharsis, no release.

So it was for me, as time marched on without remorse.

* * *

"I'm sending you home, Beau."

I blinked, looking up from my cereal. I'd spaced out again—I did that a lot—and I had no clue what we were talking about. "Come again?"

Charlie was sitting across the table from me, the pile of pancakes and scrambled eggs I'd made that morning only half consumed in front of him.

"You're going home," he repeated. "To Jacksonville, with Renée. I just can't stand this anymore."

I stared back at him a long minute. It always took a little while for words to filter down through the murky waters around my foggy brain. "Can't stand what anymore, Dad?"

" _This_ ," he said, gesticulating vaguely. "You—acting like this."

I paused, my brain working to compute that. I couldn't seem to remember doing anything to bring this on. For the past four months, I hadn't missed a day of school, at least not counting that first week. My grades were good, and I never got home late. I was cooking more than I ever had before, so we were almost never stuck with leftovers.

"Acting like what?" I asked at last.

Charlie was frowning deeply. "Beau, I think we both know this isn't working. You can't just sit around the house all day, every day. You should be out doing something, like other kids your age."

I shook my head slowly, forcing my sluggish brain to work. "What exactly are you looking for, Dad? To see me out tagging fences or smoking behind the school? I've been keeping up with all my subjects, I've been doing all my chores. I...don't get what the problem is."

Charlie shook his head. "Okay, it's not that you aren't doing _anything_ —but you aren't doing anything you enjoy, for yourself. Of course I don't want you tagging fences, but at least it would be _something_. Right now, you never get excited about anything anymore. You're—you're like a robot, going automatically from one thing to the next. That's not a healthy way to live."

I didn't know what to say. I'd been doing my best to seem normal so Charlie wouldn't have to waste time worrying about me. I thought I'd been saying all the right things, doing the right things. But apparently he'd seen straight through the charade. It sucked to think all that effort had been a waste.

Charlie was gazing at me evenly across the table as I silently tried to work out a response. He said slowly, almost hesitantly, "Beau, I think it's time—I think you and I really need to talk."

My attention returned to him. Something in his tone made me uneasy, though in a distant, drugged-out sort of way. "About...what?" I said dully.

Charlie leaned forward toward me, resting his arms on the table. "Look—I know what you're going through, kid. I went through it myself. Feeling like everything's lost it's color—but there comes a point when you've got to let yourself let go. You haven't gotten any letters or phone calls—that's a sign, son. It's time to...move on. And I think that would be easier for you if you were able to get away from here."

It took me a moment to process, to hear through the deep waters forever insulating my mind and work out a response. "I'm fine, Dad," I said at last. "Honest."

Charlie's expression was a mingle of concern and frustration. "Beau, I really think it's time for a change. I've left you to yourself to come to terms...to deal...But obviously, this isn't working. It's really time to try something else. Renée and I have mostly left you to make your own decisions, but it's to the point now where I'm going to take action if I have to. You're depressed—and I'm not going to just sit here and let it go on anymore. I should have done something long before now."

I hadn't felt much of anything in a long time, but this was enough to arouse in me some alarm. Whatever happened, I wasn't leaving Forks. That much I was absolutely decided on.

I reached deep into my sluggish brain, batting aside all the normal phrases and modes of communication I'd come to rely on, and tried to find something meaningful and therefore reassuring to say that would have a ring of truth.

"I'm...not leaving. I live here." I meant my voice to come out upbeat, cheerful, but it sounded flat, dead, even to my own ears. If anything, Charlie's deeply troubled frown only grew more pronounced.

I added, trying to superimpose a more normal tone over the lifeless monotone, "For one thing, I'm in my last semester for my senior year. It would mess me up to change schools now."

Charlie surveyed me for a long moment. Instead of answering, he said, "I really think you could use some professional help, son. Or you can always talk to one of us—I don't think you'd be so bad off if you just...let it out. Talk yourself through it."

I stared back at him. I usually did my best not to think too much about things—to think too much was to invite memories, and memories were like broken glass, cutting me up from the inside out. So I just went along on autopilot, not thinking if I could avoid it. But I was coming to the slow realization that I must look pretty bad—worse than I realized. _Professional help_ —Charlie had never held a lot of stock in professional counselors and psychologists. And what was more, he was about the furthest thing from the touchy-feely type, who'd just come straight out and offer to listen to someone talk about his problems. If he did, I'd expect a whole lot more embarrassed coughs and uncomfortable looks. The fact he was being so candid could only mean the situation felt so extreme to him that it seemed beyond awkwardness.

I knew I had to do something. First and foremost, shut down any and all plans that involved Jacksonville. "I'm fine, Dad," I said. That line was in my bank of pre-prepared phrases I'd used often, so I thought it came out more natural. "Really." However, I felt my voice slip accidentally back to a monotone as I added, "I'll do something different today. I'll go out with some of the guys."

Charlie shook his head vigorously, again looking frustrated. "You know that's not what I meant—"

"I'll go out and do something tonight," I said again, with more force this time. I added, "I like it here in Forks, Dad. I'm not going anywhere."

Charlie looked like he had more to say, but I abruptly got up from the table.

"I'm going to be late for school," I lied. As I slung my pack over my shoulder and pulled on my jacket from the coat rack, I said over my shoulder, "I might not make it back for dinner tonight. I'm going to try to catch a movie at Port Angeles. I'll be with Jeremy, maybe Allen."

I closed the door hurriedly behind me before my dad could reply.

I arrived at school way too early, so I spent it trying to work on my Calculus homework. Math had always been my worst subject, but recently I'd been getting in the low A range. I had a lot of empty time to use up these days. I concentrated on thinking only of the numbers, letting them fill my mind, letting everything else fade to white noise.

I drifted to English, and sat through it without looking at anyone, only scratching notes in my notebook. When the bell rang, McKayla came over to my desk, as she always did on Fridays. Almost tentatively, she asked, "Are you working tomorrow?"

"Course," I said vaguely, shrugging. However, through the noise I heard the buzz of Charlie's voice in the back of my head, commenting how dull I seemed. I tried to force a bright note into my voice as I added, "Tomorrow's Saturday, isn't it?"

McKayla didn't smile, only nodded, regarding me uncertainly. Now that I was paying attention, it occurred to me my voice really did sound fake. Like a bad actor reading a script.

"Okay," she said. "See you in Spanish, then."

I dragged my feet to Calculus. Jeremy and I had Calculus together, so if I was going to ask him if he wanted to go see a movie in Port Angeles tonight, I'd have to do it then. The problem was, I hadn't spoken to Jeremy in months, and he preferred to ignore me. We didn't usually move in the same spheres anymore.

Calculus sped by all too quickly, and Ms. Varner ended class early, giving us a few minutes of free time.

I worked up my nerve—no way was I going to go back home and give Charlie the chance to start in about Jacksonville again—and I leaned over across the aisle. "Hey, Jer," I said, as casually as I could.

Jeremy didn't even look at me, just kept scribbling away at a crude doodle in the margin of his notebook.

I cleared my throat and tried again. "Hey, Jeremy."

He stopped drawing, and slowly rolled his eyes in my direction. "You talking to me?" he drawled sarcastically. He regarded me suspiciously.

I figured I probably deserved the cold shoulder to some extent, and I didn't take the attitude personally. "I was just wondering if you wanted to catch a movie tonight or something. I got nothing to do." The words were all right as far as I could tell, though the tone still came out dull. Maybe I could work harder on that—I bet I could sound normal with a bit of practice.

He stared at me for a minute, brows coming together to form a line above his eyes, mouth slightly open in surprise. At last he recovered, and half his mouth turned up in a kind of grin, though his eyes remained wary. "Are you asking me out, man?"

My brain knew I needed to say something witty back, but I was out of practice. I stared blankly at him.

Jeremy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever. Allen's out on one of his dates again, and there's nothing going on anyway. What should we see?"

I honestly had no idea what was out at the moment, and I struggled to remember something. "What about that cars one?" I asked.

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean Death Race Six? That's been out of the theater forever, man."

"Oh. Well, you heard about any good ones?"

Jeremy grinned. "Now that you mention it, there's _Blood Lust_ , that one's supposed to be good. That thriller about the vampires. I heard the girls are _hot_. There's also _Dead End_ , I know some of the guys said that one was worth seeing."

I tried to keep my face blank, but I grasped at the second title. "What's that one?" I asked.

"Zombie flick," he said, grinning. "Supposed to be the scariest thing in years, though I bet they're just saying that."

"Sure, that sounds good," I said quickly. "Let's do that."

Jeremy glanced at me. "I never took you for a horror guy. I figured you for a marshmallow. Considering you faint at the sight of blood." He grinned a bit.

"Condition," I said automatically. "Weak vasovagal system." However, the moment the words were out of my mouth, I regretted it. Not because Jeremy's half grin had gotten wider, not at all impressed with my jargon, but because they brought on the barest flash of a partial memory. It slipped through my defenses like a barracuda, sinking its teeth into my flesh before I got a hold of myself. I forced my mind to go blank, shutting it out.

We decided that Jeremy would be the one to drive us down, and he came to pick me up at my house after school. He pulled up right into the driveway beside my truck, and I went on out, pulling myself into the passenger seat.

Jeremy raised his head, squinting at something inside my truck. "Hey," he said. "What's that hole in the middle of your dash?"

"Hole?" I repeated vaguely.

"Looks like you don't have a stereo."

I shrugged, then turned to look out the window as Jeremy backed out.

We made some conversation on the way over. Mostly I just deflected the questions he asked me back to him. I got him talking about cars for a while, what model and make he would get if he only had the money, and after that it was basketball, which college teams would make it to the playoffs this year. I didn't have a whole lot to contribute to those topics, so I mainly just nodded when he made some point, and periodically prodded him to keep going. However, eventually we got around to the topic I would have preferred to avoid.

"So, man, what's been up with you lately?" he asked. "I mean you act like a total space cadet, then suddenly out of the blue want to hang out?"

I shrugged. "Just felt like it guess. I realized how long it had been."

Jeremy stared at me, his face mingled pity and disgust. "Are you _still_ moping around about Edythe Cullen? I mean really, man, you knew she was going to ditch you eventually, you said it yourself. Just get over her already."

At the mention of the name, I felt something rip through my chest. Above all else, in the system of defenses I'd worked out to insulate my mind from the waiting pain, the name was forbidden. I never said the name, not even in my head.

However, I kept my face blank.

Jeremy shrugged, looking a little irritated, but to my relief, he dropped the subject and moved on to something else.

We arrived at the theater just a few minutes before the next showing was scheduled to start. We were planning to hit the movie, then grab something to eat afterward. I figured that would be enough of an outing to placate Charlie for now.

I sat rigid in my seat through the movie previews, doing my best to ignore them as one for _Blood Lust_ came on and female vampires in skimpy clothes flashed across the screen. I concentrated instead on prodding Jeremy with new topics of conversation. When the screen faded to black, I settled myself in to endure the couple hours of gore.

However, as the opening sequence began, I shifted restlessly. A young couple was walking along the beach, swinging hands and discussing the depths of their love with endless, sugary hyperbole.

I felt sweat break out on my palms, and my eyes dropped. I leaned over and said to Jeremy in a low mutter, "Hey, did we get the right theater? I thought we were seeing the zombie one."

Jeremy glanced back at me, frowning. "Yeah, this is the one." He eyed me warily for a minute before he turned his attention back to the screen.

I nodded and leaned back into my own seat. I fidgeted for a minute, then abruptly stood up. "I forgot, I wanted popcorn. You want any?"

"No thanks," he said, and looked a little irritated.

Someone shushed us from the row behind, and I awkwardly made my way back down the row, ducking my head so as not to block the screen, until I was safely out of the theater. I took several deep, steadying breathes before I headed over to the concession stand. I intentionally picked the longest line, and when I neared the counter, I smiled and politely waved several girls to go ahead of me. They giggled and thanked me. I loitered around the lobby for a few minutes more, then headed back to the theater doors. I listened carefully outside until I was sure I could hear mindless screaming issuing from the speakers, then went on in.

"What took you, man?" muttered Jeremy. "You missed a ton."

"Long line," I said. I set the popcorn between us and Jeremy took a handful.

The rest of the movie was what I'd expected. Gruesome zombie attacks and endless screaming from the handful of people still alive. However, even though this was what I'd been wanting, toward the end I began to shift uncomfortably again.

As the last survivor ran shrieking from a haggard zombie, and the scene kept cutting back and forth between the two faces, it suddenly occurred to me that the zombie's face had a familiar look to it—It was the face I saw in the mirror every day.

I sat rigid in my seat, frozen, staring up at the screen. Then I closed my eyes, letting my head drop. I clenched my fists on the armrests.

"Seriously, man?" I heard Jeremy whisper next to me. "There's like, two minutes left."

However, I didn't open my eyes until I heard the credit music start and the lights came back up.

As we were walking out, Jeremy was shaking his head. "Man, I was thinking you were made of steel that whole time, you didn't even react when the zombie—" He inserted something violently graphic I didn't even remember—"but then you totally wilted at the end."

"I guess it finally got to me," I said, shrugging.

"You going to have nightmares tonight?" he said, grinning, and wiggling his fingers spookily in my direction.

"Probably," I admitted, though I knew they wouldn't be about zombies.

Jeremy dropped his hands, frowning. I realized then that I'd inadvertently let my voice drift back to monotone.

"What's been with you these days, man?" he said suddenly. "You're just so— _weird_."

I shrugged again.

I hoped he would let the subject go, but Jeremy continued, "You're just always locked up in your own world. You just—sit there. It's freaky." He paused, giving me a sideways look through narrowed eyes. Then he suddenly accused, "It _is_ Edythe Cullen. I know it is. Don't try to lie."

I didn't look at him, only stared straight ahead. "Where do you want to eat?" I asked evenly.

"It's your own fault, you know," he went on. "You should have known better than to get serious about someone like her. It lasted longer than anyone expected. But I'll guarantee, the second you were out of her sight, she forgot you existed. She probably already has another guy in L.A."

I had stopped walking now, my eyes still focused on the buildings across the street. I continued as though he hadn't spoken, "I think there's a McDonalds on that far side—"

"Come _on_ , man!" Jeremy exploded. "This is just pathetic. Man up and admit she was toying with you, then forget about her. That's just what her kind does."

I finally turned my head to look at him then. I wasn't sure what kind of expression I was wearing, but Jeremy suddenly took a step back from me, fists raised.

"Yeah," he repeated more loudly, challenging. "You heard me, I said you're pathetic. _Pa-the-tic_. Got a problem with that?"

I looked away from him again, my expression settling back to neutral. He could call me pathetic all he wanted. He was right, I _was_ pathetic. But if he insulted—if he insulted _her_ again, then I might just punch him in the face.

As he saw the fight fade out of my expression, he stood down too, looking annoyed. "Whatever," he muttered. "You can just mope around the rest of your life for all I care."

We were silent for a long moment then. Jeremy looked toward his car, but I wasn't looking forward to the long car ride back with the atmosphere being like this, so to break the ice I said, "So where do you want to eat?"

Jeremy still looked miffed, but he thawed a little at this. "Micky-Ds is good enough for me. Let's just grab something quick and head back."

We headed straight for the yellow double arches, and Jeremy led the way as we cut through a dark, unlit stretch of street. On one side I noticed a bar, a brilliant green sign identifying it as One-Eyed Pete's. I wondered if there was some pirate theme not visible from the outside. The metal door was propped open, and several people were lounging around outside it, beer mugs in hand.

Jeremy seemed to have already gotten over our tense moment earlier, and he grinned. "Hey," he said, elbowing me in the side. "Want to go get a drink?"

I studied the place as we passed, and as my eyes fell on the figures just outside the door, I stopped.

Three of the figures were men, one was a woman. In the shadows of the street, I couldn't make out their features, but an old memory, a memory from the forbidden archive, touched the back of my mind. Two men and a woman, staring back at me. A pair of glinting guns. A rusted pipe.

Without knowing quite what I was doing, I took a step toward them.

Jeremy seized my arm. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "I was joking, man."

I shrugged him off, and took another step forward. My eyes flickered up to the sign again, and I heard a distant voice in my head, cruel and vicious with delight. _"How's that pirate song go? Dead men tell no tales."_

I stepped off the sidewalk into the street.

"You're crazy, man," Jeremy called after me in a low voice. He sounded nervous.

Maybe I was crazy. That particular memory should have me running for my life, or at least retreating back into the numb, zombie-state I'd been living in all this time. But strangely, I didn't feel any fear at all. In fact, for the first time in months, I could feel my blood beginning to pound in my ears. Adrenaline—not out of fear, but something like excitement. It was the first time I'd really felt much of anything for so long.

" _Don't you dare, Beau."_

My step faltered, and I looked around. I'd heard a voice, and not Jeremy's voice, either. It was female. And—familiar.

" _Go back, Beau. You swore. Nothing stupid."_

I was sure I was hearing that voice, but it wasn't coming from anywhere. Like the other woman's voice, it was in my head. Only that voice had been a memory. This one was saying something new. Talking to me, right now.

Jeremy was right, I really have gone crazy, I thought. But it was definitely a crazy I could get used to.

I continued toward the group, more boldly this time.

" _You swore,"_ the voice reminded me again, insistent, but fading now, as though the volume were being turned down on a radio.

Most probably I was crazy. Or maybe this was my survival instinct kicking in, my subconscious speaking to me using the only voice it knew I might actually listen to to get me to turn around and get myself out of danger. However, if that was what my subconscious was going for, it had definitely made a mistake.

For months I'd kept my mind from straying in her direction. I'd carefully kept the insulating layer of cold, numbing water around my mind, only slipping up and letting the barbs of pain through on occasion. Now I expected the ripping pain to tear through me, to burn my lungs and make my failed heart try to work, setting off the damaging cascade of internal bleeding. However, no pain assaulted me. Instead, I felt exhilarated. I wanted to hear more.

I took another step forward.

" _Beau, you're being ridiculous,"_ she said again, almost sternly.

I was almost to the other side of the street now, my eyes still on the woman.

One of the men by the wall tensed at my approach, straightening and flexing his muscles, which were covered in tattoos.

"You want something, kid?" he asked in a low, deep voice. I heard a hiss in response in my head.

I stopped walking, but didn't turn away, and the man shifted slightly, taking a step sideways, so he stood between me and the woman. She regarded me curiously over his shoulder.

I studied the woman's features. She had dark hair and red lipstick, just like the other from that night so long ago, but I was close enough now I could make out her face. She wasn't the same woman from that night.

I felt the adrenaline fade, and I shook my head. "No, I just...I thought one of you was someone I knew. Sorry."

The sense of danger was passed, and _her_ voice was gone. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I shuffled away, back toward Jeremy.

"What were you thinking, man?" he muttered in a low, angry tone as we walked quickly down the rest of the dark street and emerged on the other side. "Staring at that woman like that—that guy was probably her boyfriend. He looked like he was ready to take you apart."

"Sorry," I said, looking away. "I thought she was someone I knew."

Jeremy shook his head, his mouth twisted with annoyance. "There's something really wrong with you, man."

I didn't reply. I didn't think there was any need to agree to the obvious.

We grabbed the takeout and munched on our burgers in silence as we walked the long way back to his car. He kept a little ahead of me, ensuring I couldn't start up another conversation. I could tell he was pissed off. If he'd known hanging out with me would mean hanging out with a lunatic, I bet he would have stayed home.

In the car, he turned up the stereo until I could feel the heavy rock vibrating through my seat, making any potential for communication impossible. I turned my eyes to the window, watching the dark road whip by outside. As it did, my thoughts wandered.

 _Forget about her._ That's what Jeremy had said. But that was really the funny thing about mid-drowning, zombie-me. Zombie-me spent a ton of energy trying not to think about her, or about anything. He stored phrases and lines in his head to automatically whip out so he had to do it as little thinking as possible. But forgetting was never part of the goal.

I could handle this life. I could handle living, even without her, even if it was dull and pointless, and an agony always lurked just below the surface, ready to spring up from the depths like a shark and drag me down again. But I wasn't going to forget.

I could handle this because I still knew she existed, that she was still out there. I didn't want to think about her, but she had to exist, she had to be real. But the only place she would continue to be real to me was here in Forks. That was why I couldn't leave. Because if I let the memory of her fade into nothing more than a fantasy—then I really would go crazy.

At the front of my house, Jeremy stopped the car with an abrupt halt.  
"Thanks for the ride," I said. "See you Monday."

Jeremy didn't look at me, only glared out the front windshield. "Okay, man. Whatever."

He drove off up the street with a screech of tires, as though he couldn't get away from me fast enough.

By the time I was inside, I'd already forgotten about him.

I was a little surprised as I discarded my sneakers by the door to find Charlie wasn't in his usual place in front of the television. He was standing in the middle of the hall, arms folded over his chest, looking much more like a police chief than I could ever remember.

"Hey, Dad," I said, ducking past him. His eyes followed me on the way to the kitchen.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

I turned my head around to stare at him. "I told you I'd go down and see a movie with one or two of the guys, didn't I? Jeremy drove us down to Port Angeles."

Charlie studied my face, and he blinked. "Oh," he said. "I guess I thought...I thought you might just be saying that."

"No, we went," I said.

Charlie hesitated, then asked, "How was it?"

"Not bad," I answered. "We saw _Dead End_ , that zombie movie. Pretty gruesome."

Charlie examined me suspiciously, and I could tell he was thinking that I'd never shown an interest in horror movies before now. But there was something else in his expression, too. He looked warily pleased.

Before he could try to continue the 'opening up about feelings' conversation he'd started that morning, I turned quickly in the direction of my room. "Night, Dad. See you in the morning."

"Good night then, Beau."

I shut my door behind me and collapsed on my bed, then stared up at the ceiling, waiting for it to hit me.

It did.

The sense of water closing over my head, the slow suffocation, which I'd been dealing with by ignoring, by focusing on the numbing cold, returned in full measure. I focused on trying to get myself back to my usual insulated, zombified stupor, but I couldn't. The events of today had caused my head to break briefly above water, and even though I was still drowning, the breath of air reawakened me to the burning in my lungs, in my chest.

The pain clearly hadn't lessened any with the passage of time, but I was surprised to find it almost durable this time around—maybe I was more mentally prepared now. I knew, even if every minute was a torture, I could handle it. Live with it.

As I laid where I was, staring out the empty dark window of my room, I felt a mixture of confidence and apprehension war inside me. Confidence, because now that I was experiencing the pain I'd been avoiding to the fullest, I knew for certain I was strong enough to bear it. Apprehension because, for the first time in so long, when the morning came, I didn't know what to expect.

* * *

A/N: Hey! Again, kind of a tricky chapter for me...I could break down and analyze exactly what was bothering me, but I don't want to draw attention to those too much. x3 So I decided to just try to get past it quickly as possible and move on to the next bit...

Thanks so much for reading so far, and for your comments last chapter! If you have a second, let me know what you thought, and see you next time!

Posted 1/19/16


	6. Promises

A/N: Faster turnaround this time than I expected. This was an easier chapter than the last two for some reason...and I was looking forward to finally getting to Julie Black. C:

Thanks for reading so far! Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end!

* * *

Chapter 5: Promises

"Beau, why don't you take off?"

McKayla wasn't really looking at me as she spoke, her gaze fixed someplace over my left ear. I wondered just how long she had been talking to me that way without my noticing.

It had been slow all afternoon at Newton's. At the moment we only had two patrons, two dedicated backpackers from down south. When they'd first entered the store, they'd come straight to me to find out my opinion on the pros and cons of some of the lightweight packs displayed out front, but fortunately McKayla, the real expert on anything outdoors, came to the rescue. The conversation had segued off into a language only outdoor enthusiasts could understand, until they'd turned to telling stories from the trail, each trying to best the other. As one particular story turned into an argument, McKayla had finally been able to slip away briefly to talk to me.

"I can stay," I said. My numb, zombie-mode sense of being was still evading me, and everything felt oddly close and loud, like my ears had been full of wax, and had just gotten a good cleaning. I tried to tune out the backpacker's raucous conversation without success.

"I'm telling you," said a thickset man with an orange beard. "I've seen grizzlies pretty up close in Yellowstone. But they had _nothing_ on this brute."

The other man, tall and lean with a weather-beaten face, laughed and shook his head. "Black bears don't get that big. You've probably never seen a real grizzly."

"Really, Beau," McKayla murmured. "As soon as these two go, I'm closing up for the day."

I shrugged. "If you want me to."

"On all fours it was bigger than you," continued the bearded man as I headed to get my bag. "Completely black. I'm going to report it to the ranger here, just as soon as I get the chance. It's dangerous. This was only a few miles from the trail head."

The tall man grinned and shook his head, not looking convinced.

The bearded man turned in my direction. "Hey, son," he called, "have you heard any warnings about black bears around here recently?"

McKayla again took over. She was used to people automatically turning to me for questions, and she always took it with good grace. Even when Mrs. Newton, one of the joint owners of the store, was around, sometimes new customers still came to me first, and she only laughed about it.

"No, sir, not that we've heard," McKayla said. She added with the authority of someone who had spent years backpacking trails with her parents, "But as long as you maintain as much distance as you can and keep your food stored correctly, you're less likely to run into a problem. We have some new bear-safe canisters here you might be interested in. Barely two pounds, that's half a pound lighter than competing brands..."

The sound of McKayla's spiel faded as I slung my bag over my shoulder and slipped out the front doors.

It was raining as I crossed the lot to my truck and I pulled my jacket hood up over my head. The rain pounding against the hood of the truck sounded oddly loud, too, but the roar of my truck engine soon drowned out everything else.

I sat where I was a minute, leaning my head back against the headrest, eyes closed, concentrating on breathing deeply and evenly.

I wasn't looking forward to going back home, where the house would empty the rest of the afternoon. Last night had been bad, the worst I'd had since that first night in the forest. I'd eventually fallen asleep, but even that hadn't brought any peace. Instead, the nightmare I'd had a thousand times had visited me again.

The funny thing about the dream was that nothing actually happened. I wasn't being chased, nobody died. _She_ wasn't even there to repeat those painful final words I always worked to keep buried as deeply as possible. I only dreamed about the forest, a sea of moss-covered trees on every side as I hurried down a winding path. Eventually I would leave the path behind, going faster and faster as I tried desperately to find what I was looking for. But then there would come a point when it would hit me—I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember what I was looking for, and in the heart of the dreary wood, I would realize there was nothing to find.

I always awoke in a cold sweat, and had to dash to the bathroom across the hall to throw up into the basin. At first Charlie had been convinced I'd come down with something, and tried to get me to go in to see Dr. Gerandy to get something prescribed. But it had since become such a normal part of every night that he no longer rushed in to find out what was the matter with me.

Instead of turning the truck in the direction of Charlie's house, I made up some errands for myself. I stopped by the post office to see if we had any packages in—we didn't. Next I stopped by the hardware store and spent twenty minutes trying to remember what type of oil my truck and Charlie's police cruiser took, before I bought an extra quart of each. I drove endlessly around the town, eyes drifting over each shop or business, and trying to think of something I might need to look for inside, that might just burn another fifteen minutes. Several times I found myself on some back roads, going through neighborhoods, and I studied the houses as I passed, trying to occupy my mind with naming the people who lived in them. Trying to fill my mind with anything but the thoughts that hovered just on the periphery, threatening at any moment to close around my mind.

 _It will be as though I never existed..._

"No," I said aloud, my voice sounding almost too loud in the silence, even over the roar of my truck engine as I twisted the steering wheel and turned onto yet another neighborhood road. "Not thinking about that. Let's see now...that's the Markses house...man, what a pile of junk they've got out there...They really think they'll sell those? Those bikes look like they might have run last century..."

However, as I crept the truck along the road, my eyes fell on the house at the end of the road, and I realized that, in spite of my best efforts, in all my meandering I'd drifted back to Charlie's house anyway.

My hands gripped the steering wheel, and images from my nightmare the night before flickered in my mind. I felt the horror coming back, threatening to come crashing down on me, to consume me. Nothingness. Unable to remember what I was looking for.

 _It will be as though I never existed..._

I gritted my teeth against the voiceless sound of the words. That promise—that promise I hated. It was the kind of promise that never should have been made, already broken from the moment it had been put into words. And if it _was_ kept—if I forgot everything, that beautiful dream I had experienced so briefly—then that would mean my nightmare had come true. It was the kind of promise that devastated, tore me from the inside out, whether kept or broken. I was trapped.

Instead of pulling into the driveway, I turned the truck sharply down another road, desperate for anything to keep me away from going inside, and spending the rest of the afternoon there, alone. I decided maybe I would make a quick trip to the grocery store. I'd just on Monday, my usual day, but I was sure I could think of a few things we could use if I wandered around for a bit.

I pulled into the parking lot, and headed through the sliding doors. As I wandered hazily down the meat aisle, my eyes drifted from one package to the next, and I tried my best to focus on the poundage and fat percentages. Trying to shut out the voiceless promise playing again and again in my mind.

"Beau?"

I paused and raised my head, turning. In my distracted state, it took me a moment to recognize the face.

"Julie?" I said in wonder. "Julie Black?"

Julie—Jules—grinned broadly. "Sure is. Good to see you. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Julie Black looked a little different than I remembered. She had gotten taller—again—perhaps another inch or two. But more notable than that was that the former roundness of her young face had been replaced with sharp angles, and though she was still lean, her arms had the toned look of a professional athlete. She could have been a player in the WNBA.

However, the cheerful grin that stretched across her face and her bright teeth that contrasted sharply with her copper complexion was the same as ever.

Strangely, without having to make a conscious effort to do so, I felt my own mouth split into a grin. "How have you been? I haven't seen you up here before."

Jules shrugged and made a face. "Just doing a shopping run for my mom, as usual. I usually just go to the general store on the rez, but they were clear out of Tabasco sauce."

"I'm getting some stuff for dinner tonight," I said. Again, I felt my mouth turn up in a smile. The expression felt unfamiliar on my face, so I was surprised how easily it came. But then, I'd always gotten along with Jules. Even though I hadn't had much to do with her when I came down for my yearly summer visits to Forks, at least that I could remember, she almost felt like the childhood friend I'd never had.

Jules snorted. "They think we're slaves, I swear."

"Maybe we should start a revolt," I suggested.

Jules laughed, dark eyes sparkling. I remembered she always had a way of making me feel more funny than I was. "If you round us up some allies, I'll get the weapons," she promised.

"Sounds like a plan." I was a little surprised when I heard myself asking curiously, "So, how did you get down here? You get your car done?" I'd never been one for small talk, and over the past few months, I never asked questions or volunteered anything, but I was startled to realize I was genuinely interested.

"I did get that master cylinder my mom promised me," she said, grinning. Then she sighed. "But no, not yet. I'm going to put a few hours of work in on her as soon as I get back. I had to borrow the Clearwaters' car to get down here." She suddenly frowned. "Apparently Lee was wanting to take it out somewhere, so I'm supposed to be back as soon as I can."

I nodded, though I would have liked to talk a bit longer. "Right. I guess you better get going then, I don't want you to get in trouble. Good to see you again."

Jules turned in the direction of the checkout counter, but looked a little reluctant to go. "Lee doesn't scare me," she muttered. "I could take him any day of the week."

"Yeah," I said, "but if you beat him up my dad would have to arrest you. Then you'd never finish your car."

She laughed, that husky sort of laugh I remembered. "Guess you have a point." However, as she turned she glanced back at me. "Hey," she said. "You should drop by sometime. We could hang out."

I was pleasantly surprised by the offer, and I found myself smiling again. "Yeah," I said. "That sounds fun." And I realized I meant it.

Jules left, and as soon as the conversation was over, I felt my gloom and the buzzing in my head return. However, I was shocked to realize that I had almost legitimately forgotten about the sickening swirl in my mind for a few minutes. Never did I completely forget—it was always there, lurking in the back of my mind, a constant murmuring stream underneath everything else that never went away. But I'd actually been distracted—at least for a moment.

I decided maybe I would take Jules up on her offer. Go to see her sometime. I doubted it would be much of a reprieve—it was just a fluke, because I'd been surprised. But, if I was going to have to be going out to see friends anyway, to keep Charlie off my case...Jules seemed as good an option as any.

I got everything I needed, dawdling as long as I could trying to compare prices, but eventually I had to take my items up for purchase, and get back in my truck. I sat there a minute again before, with a sigh, I started the engine.

 _It will be as though I never existed..._

The soundless voice murmured in my head again, an endless cycle on repeat. Making the promise again and again, and with that constant reminder, only ensuring it was broken. But it was worse today—overpowering.

As I headed back down the road, my hands clenched around the steering wheel. My breath was coming faster, sweat breaking out on my brow. It was happening, like it did sometimes—an attack, where it all became too much, and I couldn't seem to breathe, my chest burning as though I really couldn't get enough air. But it was far worse than usual today, without the cold numbness I had carefully maintained. As I pulled onto the familiar road back to the house, my vision swam, and I turned the steering wheel to pull off the road.

I sat in my truck, a hand pressed to my chest, clenching my fist around a handful of my T-shirt, as though I were in physical pain. I gritted my teeth.

I thought I had accepted it already. But maybe that was the problem—accepting it, it was hard to figure out what to live for. How to keep living day in, day out, minute by minute, with no hope to have anything to fight for, nothing that I would ever want again.

"I'm sick of this," I whispered, and my voice cracked. "I'm so sick of this." I was sick—sick of feeling so hopeless, so fragile, and feeling like I was being lied to over and over again. And afraid what it would mean if, in the end, the lie wasn't a lie.

Another memory flickered beneath the first, rising to the surface. And I remembered suddenly that I had made a promise, too.

" _Don't do anything stupid."_

I'd said I wouldn't, and I'd kept that promise. More than kept it, really.

However, I felt a sudden thrill at the thought of _not_ keeping it—or at least not entirely. I had to break out of this rut somehow, and as I recalled the rush I'd felt back in Port Angeles, when I thought I might be faced with those old adversaries, the thought of doing something completely stupid, completely reckless, suddenly sounded quite appealing. It would be a distraction. I couldn't just keep going back home and spending every day alone there—eventually I'd go insane. In a way, finding some outlet, some way to relieve the torment of my thoughts, would probably actually be better for me.

My eyes, which had been staring vacantly out the truck windshield, suddenly settled again on what I realized was the Markses' house, and more importantly, on the junk outside I'd noticed before. A pair of old, rusted out motorcycles.

I felt a sudden flare of excitement as an idea struck me. A brilliant, stupid idea.

Before I was even ten years old, Charlie had instilled in me the ingrained belief that motorcycles equal danger. As police chief in Forks, he'd seen his share of traffic accidents, and very often those ones involving motorcycles were fatal for the motorcyclist, and he'd made me swear up and down never to ride or accept a ride on one. Considering that even as a kid I was liable to fall just walking across a flat, stable surface, I hadn't considered it much of a sacrifice. Now the idea of getting on a motorcycle suddenly seemed incredibly attractive.

However, a moment later I slumped back in my seat. There was no way those pieces of junk out there would run. They'd probably cost more to repair than to buy new, and my minute college fund wasn't going to buy me a new one. However, as I stared longingly out across the road at them, an idea sparked at the back of my mind, and I sat up slowly again. It would probably cost more to fix them than to buy new if I went to a mechanic, but I did know someone who knew how to build cars. Maybe she'd know a thing or two about motorcycles, too.

Before I really gave myself a chance to think through what I was doing, I found myself putting my truck into gear, and pulling across the road to park in front of the Markses' house. I got out and marched across the wet, muddy yard up to the front door. I rang the doorbell.

A few seconds later, a young teenage girl came to the door. I remembered that she was the freshman, and she had an older sister in my grade, though at the moment I couldn't remember the younger one's name.

"Huh," she said, looking startled. "I know you, you're Beau Swan." She hesitated, eying me up and down with some suspicion. "Can I...help you?"

I ignored her look and gestured toward the front of the yard. "How much would it be if I wanted to buy one of the bikes?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "Um...well, to be honest, my dad said he was going to have them pitched. They aren't good for anything. My dad moved them out there to get taken out with the garbage."

I looked at her uncertainly. "So does that mean you'll give it to me for cheap?"

She shrugged. "Just take one if you want it. Actually, might as well take both of them, my parents will just be glad they're gone."

"Wow," I said, looking back at them. "Great. I guess I'll just take them then."

"Want me to go get my dad so he can help you move them?" she asked, eying my less-than-impressive physique. "They might be heavy."

I shook my head quickly. If the parents started getting involved, no doubt what I was doing would wind its way back to Charlie. "No thanks, I can manage. Thanks a lot, this is great."

"What are you going to do with them?" she asked curiously. "I mean, even I can tell it would cost a ton to get them fixed."

I nodded. "Yeah, but I know someone who works on cars and stuff. Thanks again."

The girl nodded, and retreated back inside.

I had a time and a half getting the things onto the truck bed. They were hard to get a grip on, and even heavier than they looked. I had to back the truck up right up next to them, and make use of a long, stick-like tool Charlie had put in my truck in case I ever needed to change a tire—not that I would have known how if I'd needed to—to pry them out of the mud. Once I'd finally gotten one up off the ground and shoved into the back, I considered leaving the second one where it was, but as I'd already told the Marks girl I'd take both, I forced myself to go ahead and do that one, too.

I quickly raced back to the house, hoping I would get there before Charlie got back from work. Normally he didn't get home until the evening, but I didn't have any faith in my luck. I dumped all the groceries from the store in the fridge, then quickly went to the phone.

I called Charlie at the station, and was relieved to find he was still there. I let him know I would be out for the afternoon, and asked for directions to La Push. I had to promise I'd make it back in time to make dinner, as Charlie seemed to like the idea of his going up and meeting me there to eat, and that was definitely out of the question.

I pulled some steaks out of the freezer to thaw in the fridge, then headed out.

The sky was dark and overcast with the approach of a coming storm as I followed the roads out of town and headed out toward the reservation. As I drove down the quiet, empty road, I wasn't sure if the sudden feeling of solitude was eery or a relief, and I still hadn't fully decided when I pulled up to the Blacks' house and cut the engine short.

The house was a fairly small place, wooden, with narrow windows and painted a kind of dull barn-red. I'd been here before, quite a few years ago, but I couldn't remember it feeling as familiar, almost homey, as it somehow did now.

I glanced up only to see someone already emerging from the front door, looking incredulous, but grinning broadly. It was still raining fairly substantially, but she didn't seem to care.

"Wow," she said. "When I said you should stop by sometime, I didn't think you'd come later the same day."

Her smile was infectious as always, and as I climbed out of the truck, I found myself grinning back. It was definitely strange for me, smiling, but in a good way. "Bad time?" I asked.

"No way," she said, beaming. "Come on, let's get inside. You're getting soaked."

Jules's satin black hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck as always, but it was coming loose, and as she led me toward the house, she casually pulled out the rubber band and combed her fingers through the long locks. As I came up alongside her, I noticed again how tall she had gotten. Surreptitiously, I put two fingers to the top of my head, drawing them across to her.

Jules noticed what I was doing, and turned, still grinning but looking bemused. "What?"

"I still have an inch and a half on you," I told her, letting my arm drop.

Jules laughed, once again her white teeth standing out from her russet skin, especially in the stormy gloom of the gray sky. "Not for long. You better get going if you don't want me to pass you."

"Aren't you done yet?" I said.

She shook her head, and her untied hair sprayed a few droplets. "Doubt it. I'm a freak of nature."

As we reached the threshold, Jules twisted her hair between her hands, squeezing out the moisture, then redid her ponytail, before we stepped inside.

"Hey, Mom," she called into the house. "Look who's stopped by."

Bonnie was in her wheelchair in the tiny living room, a book open in front of her. As we stepped in, however, she set it aside and wheeled herself over.

"Well, what do you know. It's good to see you, Beau. What brings you out to this neck of the woods? Charlie doing all right, I hope?"

I found I was feeling—perhaps not quite cheerful, but something that vaguely resembled it. "Just fine. I just thought I'd stop by. Maybe hang out for awhile—if that's okay."

"Course it is," said Bonnie amicably. "You should stay for dinner too, if you'd like."

"No, thanks," I said, a little too quickly. "I told Charlie—I mean, my dad—that I'd be home in time to fix dinner."

"Oh, we can call him, too," said Bonnie, and she looked like she was already warming to the idea. "He's always invited."

I laughed to hide my discomfort. I was hoping to get Jules alone so I could make my outrageous suggestion, and if she said yes, maybe get started on the bikes right away. I doubted Bonnie visited her daughter much in the garage, but the last thing I needed was for Charlie to come up here and stumble across what I was doing.

"I already put the steaks in the fridge to thaw," I said. I saw out of the corner of my eye Jules's face fall a little, and I added, "But next time. I'll be down here a lot the next few weeks, you'll see. You'll probably be sick of seeing me." I realized I felt energized by the thought. That odd feeling of familiarity was percolating through my system now, and it occurred to me that this was a nice change from being in Forks—I wasn't so far away I could be in danger of forgetting it existed, like if I went to Jacksonville, but it was nice to be away from the overpowering constant reminders of everything inevitably associated with pain.

Bonnie chuckled good-naturedly. "Next time, then," she said.

As she went back to her book, Jules and I started toward the door.

Jules's expression had brightened back up at what I'd said about being around a lot, and I was relieved. Even though she'd invited me down, I'd been a bit worried she might be a bit weirded out by my stopping by so soon. But she seemed legitimately happy to see me.

"So," she said as we came to a stop by the front door. "Something in particular you were looking to do? I just finished all the indoor-chore stuff, and I was going to go out and work on the car, but we can do something else if you want."

Afraid Bonnie might still be able to hear us, I said, "No, that's cool. I'd like to see this car I've heard so much about."

We headed outside, Jules leading the way toward the garage. It was still raining like mad, and I could only hope the pounding would drown out our voices.

Before I could work out exactly what to say to start in on my insane idea, Jules glanced back at me, dark eyes twinkling.

"Steaks, huh?" she said.

I stared back at her, nonplussed. Her grin widened and she tapped her temple.

"I have built in radar. I can always tell when someone has something to hide—any particular reason you don't want your dad up here?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Sounds like you have some experience keeping things from parental authority figures."

"Course," she said bracingly. Not to be deterred, however, she said, "So what's the story?"

I sighed. "There really are steaks," I insisted. Then I grinned a little sheepishly. "And there might just be something I sort of decided I want to do, and Charlie would probably lock me in the house for the rest of my high school career if he got wind of it. _And_ I was sort of hoping you might help me with it."

Jules's face always had a few smile lines, but she looked more delighted than I'd seen her at this. "Oh yeah?" she said eagerly. "I like the sound of that."

We were to the garage now. A thick set of trees and shrubbery blocked the view of the place from the main house. It looked as though Jules had put it together herself, little more than couple of preformed sheds bolted together with the interior walls knocked out. We stepped inside the shelter, and I paused as I laid eyes on Jules' work in progress, raised on cinderblocks.

"It's a Volkswagen," I said, recognizing the distinctive design, though that was about all I knew. "What kind is it?"

"An old Rabbit," said Jules, walking around me and thumping the hood. "A 1986, classic. She's almost done, just a couple of things to tweak here and there."

She shook her head. "But enough about that—what's this plan you've got to rebel against the police chief? Spill."

I leaned against the wall, arms folded. "So, you build cars," I said. "But what do you know about motorcycles?"

Her eyes glittered. "A little. One of my brothers had a dirt bike, and I helped him work on it sometimes."

"Well," I began. "The thing is, I just got a couple of bikes, but they're junk. I was wondering if you'd be able to get them going again."

Jules's dark eyes gleamed with anticipation at the challenge. "I could try."

"Of course," I said, and I pretended to make my voice stern, doing my best military impression, "you'll be sworn to secrecy. You can't tell anyone what we're doing. Charlie's got this thing about motorcycles. He turns purple when you get him on that topic. Bonnie can't know either, because if she knows, she'll pass it on to Charlie."

Jules's grin stretched to the very edges of her face. She suddenly reached over and punched me on the arm. "People think you're such a nice guy, Beau, but you're really a rebel, aren't you?"

I grinned back, and the muscles in my face I hadn't been using for so long were starting to feel a bit sore, but I didn't care. "You caught me."

Jules casually draped an arm over the hood of her car, and hooked a thumb through the belt loop of her cutoff jeans. "Sure, sure, I'm totally in. When can you bring the bikes up?"

I winced, a little embarrassed. "Actually, they're in the truck now."

Jules seemed honestly happy at that. "Great. Then let's get started. We'll bring them around now."

I glanced back in the direction of the house. "Think your mom will see us?"

Jules laughed and, picking a tool from a rack on the wall, twirled the loop around her finger once before she caught it deftly, holding it like a weapon. "Naw, we'll stay incognito."

As we started out, my conscience started to needle me a bit.

"Hey," I began slowly. "This is going to be a lot of work. I can pay you. Whatever you think is fair."

Jules looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed. She settled with a mixture of both. "Seriously? Did you seriously just say that?"

"I just thought—" I began.

"I don't get paid to help my friends," she said. Then she added, "Besides, you let me in on the secret of the conspiracy, Beau. If I want your money, I'll just blackmail you."

I grinned again. "Guess that makes sense. How about this then? I've got two bikes, but I only really need one. They were going to throw them both away. What do you say if we work on the two of them, and when we're done, you take one and I'll take the other. Then I'll have someone to practice riding with."

"That's cool with me," Jules answered, and though her tone was nonchalant, her arms swung jauntily as we walked.

Remembering the time I'd had trying to load the bikes, with only one of the Marks girls to help, I went to help Jules get them off the truck bed, but as I spent a minute awkwardly trying to find the right grip, she finally waved me away.

I watched in shock as she hoisted each of the bikes with surprising ease. The sleeves of her black shirt had been sheared off, leaving her upper arms visible as the muscles of her arms pressing out against the skin, then relaxing back as she set each one on the ground. I couldn't help but stare.

She covertly brought both the bikes back around to the cover of the shrubbery.

Once they were safely out of view, she looked both the bikes over with an experienced eye.

"They actually aren't as bad as they look, I think I can work with these. This one here will actually be worth something when I'm done. It's an old Harley Spirit."

"Okay," I said. "That one's yours then."

"You sure?" she looked over the bike one more time, then glanced at me, unable to suppress her excitement.

"Sure," I said. "You're doing a ton of free labor for me, right?"

Her grin widened, but then her face suddenly turned grave. "Can I ask you a serious question, Beau?" she asked.

I hesitated, uncertain. "What?" I said cautiously.

Her grin was suddenly back. "You really don't know the first thing about cars, do you?" she said slyly.

I laughed with relief. "Not a thing."

"I sort of figured. Whenever I mentioned that master cylinder, your eyes kind of glazed over. I can always tell car-people from non-car-people."

I shook my head. "I'm definitely a non-car person."

Her eyes flickered back to the bikes, and for a moment she looked uncharacteristically anxious. "You know," she said slowly. "These will probably take some new parts. That'll be expensive."

"No problem," I said. "I've got some money saved up. For college, you know." To heck with college, anyway. I didn't plan to leave Forks, so what did it matter? "We'll just shave a bit off the top."

"It'll probably take a while," she warned. "You won't get bored just sitting there while I work?"

I shook my head. "No way. This is my project, right?" I grinned. "Besides, it's hard to get bored with a freak of nature around."

Jules's uncertain look disappeared, and she grinned more widely than ever. "Just don't touch. My shop may look like chaos, but I know exactly where each of my tools are, and if you try to organize, I won't be able to find anything. I've seen your house, I know you're a compulsive organizer."

My grin was sheepish. "Guilty."

As we wheeled the bikes inside the garage, to get out of the rain which was barely a drizzle now, I couldn't help but marvel at my luck. It wasn't every day you found the perfect person to be a co-conspirator in a scheme like this. Like a gift straight from heaven.

Now, it was time to break some promises.

* * *

A/N: We're finally starting to get somewhere...I think this chapter was about the same in spirit as the original, but there were more differences in the writing itself and the way things played out that made it fun to write.

Note: Again, I left the hikers the same as in the original. I could have made them women, but I felt like it just wouldn't have quite the same vibe. I won't be leaving all minor characters unchanged this way, but I will in some situations. (The police officers will also probably be left male, as I'm having trouble picturing Charlie as police chief with a harem of female officers...though if I find a reference to a female officer in the original Life and Death, I would go with that.)

Again thanks for reading and for all your comments last chapter! If you have a chance, take a second to let me know what your thoughts are, and see you next time~

Posted 1/25/16


	7. Friends

A/N: Before I post a chapter, I always debate with myself whether I shouldn't hold onto it longer, and try to find ways to make it better...But, I've also been trying to get myself to post a bit faster (once every one or two weeks seems like a good pace to me, at least for now), particularly since I think this might come across as a slower part of the story in this version...I'm still trying to find the right balance.

Thanks for reading, and see you at the end! C:

* * *

Chapter 6: Friends

It turned out the motorcycles would be plenty safe just kept in the garage. As Jules explained, Bonnie's wheelchair couldn't maneuver the uneven ground separating it from the house, so she never went out there.

Jules started immediately into the red bike, which was going to be mine, pulling it apart piece by piece and laying them out on the ground around her like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. I sat on a pile of cinder blocks in the corner, listening to her talk as she worked, meandering from one funny story to the next, most of them set at her school. She had two best friends she mentioned more than the others.

When she paused between stories, I couldn't help but say, "Quil and Em, those are unusual names."

Jules chuckled. "Quil's is a hand-me-down, from her great grandmother. It's actually Quilla, but she doesn't go by that too much. Don't ever call her Tequila, she'll kill you. And Em is for Emma."

I was interested to learn more about Jules's friends. I opened my mouth to ask more, but just then I heard a voice calling in the distance.

"Jules?" said the voice, from some ways away, but growing closer. "Jules!"

I strained to make out the voice, feeling a flicker of panic. "That isn't Bonnie, isn't it?"

Jules groaned and slumped. "No. I swear, somehow they time it this way on purpose."

"Jules?" the voice called again, sing-song. "Oh, Juuulieee—"

"In here!" Jules shouted back, then muttered, "Sheesh."

A minute later a pair of dark-faced teenagers appeared around the edge of the garage entrance. They were both girls, one almost as tall as Jules, with curtains of black hair that hung about her face, and the other was small and slender, with cropped hair that had obviously been done by a stylist, with dark eyes accentuated by heavy eyeliner.

The two of them stopped where they were, and as they laid eyes on me, they stared. They shared a significant look, and in unison their mouth split into wide, crafty smiles.

"Hey, Jules," said the shorter one, eyes glittering, the clear lip-gloss on her lips catching the light as her grin widened. "Wondered what you were up to. And who's _this_?"

Jules didn't fail to catch the suggestion in the emphasis, and her russet skin seemed to turn a touch redder than usual.

"Hey, Quil, Em," Jules said, obviously trying to sound casual. "This is a friend of mine. Beau Swan."

The smaller one was looking straight at me, still with a kind of sly half grin on her face. "Charlie's kid, right?" She offered me a slender hand to shake, and her nails were long and manicured. "I'm Quilla Ateara, very nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," I answered. I almost had to laugh at the way she was looking at me, and her general demeanor. Quilla gave the impression of a girl who was an expert in every feminine art known to man, but could just as easily be a company president. In a room full of guys in suits, there was no doubt she'd be the one in charge.

The other girl, the taller, thinner one, came forward too, offering her hand as well. She was a little hesitant, clearly the shier of the two. "I'm Emma Call, but you can call me Em."

"Nice to meet you," I said.

"What are you two up to?" said Quil, eyes flickering back and forth between Jules and I with delighted suspicion.

"We're just working on fixing up these two bikes," said Jules, eyes focused very intently on a twisted piece of blackened metal.

Quil eyed the old red bike Jules was at work on now, then glanced at the other one sitting toward the back. "Those are going to need a lot of parts," she noted. "A new engine for a start. And belts. Was the vacuum pump salvageable?"

"How's the fuel filter?" Em wanted to know. "Probably have to replace it too, huh?"

I knew I shouldn't be surprised, considering what I knew Jules could do, but at least she sort of looked the part of a car fanatic. Quil and Em didn't.

"Don't tell me you two build cars, too," I said, shaking my head.

Quil laughed. "No, Jules here is the only freak of nature on this reservation. I like a nice car as much as anybody, but I don't build them. But when you're around her as much as we are, you learn a thing or two." She looked at me curiously. "So, why are you sitting over there? Isn't this a joint project?"

I shook my head. "Honestly, all I worry about when I get in a car is making sure it turns on when I turn the key and there's enough gas in the tank."

Quil snorted. "Hey, we know Jules is just a weirdo, but what's your excuse? You've got a Y chromosome, haven't you? You should be eating this stuff for breakfast."

I shrugged. "I guess my Y chromosome must have had a defect."

"Hey," Jules cut in, annoyed. "Lay off."

Quil and Em went back to grilling Jules on the her plans for the motorcycles, which proved Quil was being modest about her and Em's knowledge of vehicular construction, and there was a lot of good-natured grumbling and argument from Jules.

Finally I glanced at my watch, and saw it was time for me to head back if I was going to make it back in time to start dinner for Charlie. I sighed deeply and stood up from the cement blocks, stretching.

Jules glanced up, looking apologetic. "Sorry, I guess this part must seem pretty boring."

I shook my head. "No, that's not it, I just have to get back and get dinner started."

The corner of Jules's mouth turned up. "Steak?"

I found myself grinning back. "You know it."

She nodded. "Well, I'll keep working on this, and I'll get it all taken apart tonight. Then we'll need to figure out a plan for getting the parts it'll need. When do you want to meet again?"

"What about tomorrow?" I suggested. Sundays were typically the worst part of my week—never enough homework to keep me busy.

Quil, for some reason, looked quite amused by this, and she and Em again shared a grin.

"Yeah," said Jules. "Sounds good." Her hands were still at work on pulling apart a particularly complicated-looking section of the bike, but I noticed she was smiling.

As I walked away from the garage, I heard a burst of giggles, followed by Quil and Em's teasing voices, and Jules made some threat in return. I couldn't help but grin to myself—strange, for me to be smiling, when no one else was there to see—and I chuckled under my breath. The sound felt unfamiliar in my throat, coming out so naturally, not because I was trying to put on a show. I felt charged up, like I was walking on air, and I laughed again aloud, making it real.

Charlie wasn't back yet when I arrived home, and I was nearly finished with dinner when he clumped through the door.

"Hey, Dad," I said, and flashed him a grin.

He did a double-take before he managed to pull his expression together. "Hey, kiddo. Have a good time at the Black house?"

I moved the plate of steaks to the table, getting out the barbeque sauce. "Yeah, it was great."

"Do anything fun?" he asked casually.

I had to be careful here. "Just hung out around Jules's garage. You know she's rebuilding a Volkswagen. It looks great, it's almost done."

"I didn't know you were interested in cars," he said as he sat down at the table, spearing a T-bone onto his plate.

I shrugged. "Not, really. She did all the work, I just watched. I've never seen anyone able to do anything like that."

Charlie nodded. He looked pleased, but wary, too. This sudden change of outlook probably seemed so uncanny, it was too soon to trust it would last.

After dinner, I hung out around the kitchen for a while, cleaning up everything twice and even resharpening the cutlery, then slowly doing my homework, and when that was done, going into the front room to watch the hockey game with Charlie. I didn't know who the teams were or any of the players, but I concentrated on learning them.

I was stalling. After coming out of zombified state of mind, last night had been bad. But I'd gotten through it—I felt like the months of insulating myself, constantly feeling the pain hovering just on the edge of my consciousness, had toughened me up, made me strong enough to bear it. The afternoon of reprieve had been more than I could have asked for, but now that it was over, I was afraid it had only been softening me up for something worse than I'd had so far. Maybe someone else would have thought I was pathetic, if they could see what was going on in my head, but I knew, to survive, I had to deal the only way I could. I had to insulate my mind, protect it...or the pain would pull me under.

When the time finally came and Charlie mentioned the late hour, I didn't reply. Instead, I sat where I was as though I hadn't heard him, eyes still on the television. It wasn't until he got up, stretching, turned off the TV and headed upstairs, that I at last reluctantly followed.

As I trudged up the stairs, one slow, reluctant step at a time, I could almost feel the last of the afternoon's abnormal sense of wellbeing draining from my system, only to be replaced with a gnawing dread.

I laid down carefully on my side, letting my eyes slide closed. I braced myself against the coming onslaught.

And the next thing I knew, it was morning.

I headed downstairs in a daze, distracted as I began pulling the dishes out to get breakfast ready. I hadn't gone a night without nightmares in more than four months. It bordered on miraculous.

As I put the eggs and ham in pan and turned on the heat, I shook my head. Still, I shouldn't allow myself to start getting too comfortable. This just meant the reprieve was lasting longer than I expected, which meant it would be that much worse when I fell back. I was balancing on a slippery, precarious edge, and it wouldn't take much to send me crashing back down. If it wasn't the pain that came back, then the numbness.

However, I couldn't stop myself feeling just the tiniest spark of warmth, of anticipation, when I thought about the fact I was going to the Blacks' house again today. Jules would be there, cheerful and working on our secret project. There, maybe I wouldn't have to constantly remind myself to try to look interested, like I always did at school. However, I shook my head. No, I couldn't start thinking like that. Maybe I would have a good time there like I did yesterday, and it would let me escape for a few hours, but overall, I had to hang on to my pessimism. My pessimism was my best defense—because as I knew only too well, there was no greater pain than disappointed hopes.

At breakfast, Charlie was watching me closely, though he pretended not to.

"What are you up to today?" he asked casually, eying a loose thread on the edge of his cuff like he wasn't paying much attention.

"Going over to the Blacks again. I'll be in Jules' garage most of the time, probably."

Charlie nodded, eyes still on his sleeve. "I see," he said.

"You don't need me for anything, do you?" I asked.

Charlie blinked, looking startled. "No, no, you go ahead. The Clearwaters were going to come up and watch the game with me anyway."

I had a spark of inspiration, and I said quickly, "Maybe they could give Bonnie a ride up. She was talking about getting together with you again sometime." That would take care of my worry of Bonnie getting suspicious, and putting a premature end to my schemes.

"Great idea," he said, and he looked almost cheerful as he headed toward the phone while I slipped into my rain jacket. I made sure I had my wallet and checkbook, then headed out.

At the Black house, Jules was outside by my truck before I even had a chance to shut off the engine.

"Your dad called and said you were on your way," she said, grinning. Her teeth gleamed white against her russet skin, and they were quickly becoming familiar.

Completely on its own, without a conscious command, I felt my mouth spread in an answering smile. Icy rain was pouring down against the top of my head and down my face, but I didn't care.

"Hey, Jules."

"Good move," she said in a low, conspiratorial voice. "Planting the idea to get rid of my mom. Nice one."

"Anything for the plan," I said, also keeping my voice low, and doing my best imitation of a villainous chuckle.

Jules laughed.

Holly and Saul showed up to grab Bonnie not too long later, but while we waited, Jules gave me a tour of their tiny house, and we stopped by her room. It wasn't at all what I'd have expected a girl's room to be, no posters of boy bands or cute kittens. It was all racing cars, and there was even a diagram of an engine.

As soon as Bonnie was gone, we stuck our heads together, and Jules produced a small folded slip of paper from her back pocket. The list of parts.

"We'll head out to the dump, first," she said. "We might get lucky. This could get expensive real fast, those bikes will need a lot of replacement parts before they'll be going anywhere."

I shrugged nonchalantly, pulling out my checkbook, and clicking the pen I'd brought along without much concern. "You just tell me where to sign and when," I said in an exaggeratedly deep, snobby rich voice. "Money's no object."

It turned out to be a strange kind of day. Good strange. We slogged through ankle-deep mud at the dump, pelted constantly with rain, but somehow it was fun with Jules there, cracking jokes. Strange.

When Jules turned away briefly to rummage through a pile of rusty scraps, I watched her surreptitiously out of the corner of my eye, studying her profile. And I wondered just what it was about her, that I liked to be around her. That she could briefly chase away the heavy, oppressive storm cloud of emotion that hung over my head, for a few hours at least, when it came down to it, I barely knew her.

I didn't think it was the fact that she always seemed happy to see me, and she didn't always seemed to be carefully watching me out of the corner of her eyes, as though I might suddenly sink down into another fit of depression. It wasn't even the anticipation of getting the bikes done.

Maybe it was just Jules herself. She was a perpetually happy, upbeat person, energizing whoever came near her with her jokes and natural good cheer. She was like some kind of earthbound sun, and whenever someone drifted within the space of her gravitational pull, they absorbed some of that warmth she gave off wherever she went. The light was so bright, even my dense and heavy clouds couldn't block it all out entirely.

I smiled a bit wryly to myself. Maybe it was a bit of a cheesy metaphor—clouds and sun—but it was apt, all the same.

"Hey," Jules said as we got back into my truck. "Did the stereo break?" She was staring at the gaping hole in my dashboard.

Commenting on the taboo, that probably should have sent me spiraling down to my usual dark place, but I only shrugged.

"Yeah," I said. It wasn't exactly a lie. Only I'd been the one to break it.

She leaned forward, peering inside. "Who took this out? All the connections have been torn off. I don't think you could install another one if you wanted to."

"I took it out," I admitted.

She turned to stare at me, then laughed. "Wow. I knew you didn't know about cars, but...you know, I think you might be a menace. Don't touch the bikes, okay?"

I put two fingers to my temple in a salute.

Jules had found several parts she could use at the dump, a few she was very excited about, and next we drove up to the Checker Auto Parts store in Hoquiam. In my truck, it was over a two-hour drive, but the time seemed to slip away easily. Jules never ran out of funny stories and jokes that had me sitting with rapt attention, or else laughing out loud.

"But anyway," she said at last, after she'd reached the end of a long story involving Quil setting up an elaborate plot to prove to a senior guy she had her eye on that his steady girlfriend was cheating on him. "That's enough about me and my life. What about Forks? You've probably got way more drama up there than La Push."

I shook my head. "Not really. I mean, I guess there's a little drama, but sounds like your friends are way more interesting than mine. I don't think it could ever get boring with someone like Quil around. She cracks me up."

Jules smiled back, but her eyes flickered briefly away. "I think Quil finds you pretty interesting, too. Course, she finds a lot of guys interesting. She's got a ranking system all worked out for every guy she's ever met. I think you're pretty high."

I laughed. "Somehow, I really don't think that would work."

"Why not?" she asked, and her tone was almost overly casual. "She pretends to be a prima donna sometimes, but underneath it all she's a good person."

I had the hazy notion that Jules was driving at something, and it didn't have anything to do with Quil.

"Well," I said, "for all that makeup, I get the feeling she could totally beat me up."

"What difference does that make?" said Jules. Her voice was still light and joking, but she was staring hard out the front windshield, and there was some tension in her body language. "Why does that matter? Isn't this the twenty-first century?"

I grinned, determined to keep it light. " _Women_ think this is the twenty-first century. But for us, we're still in the dark ages." I put a hand to my heart and said in a theatrical voice, "One must protect ladies from all perils, and make it so she must never be forced to set foot out of doors, lest her fair skin be blemished by the cruel sun and nails chipped in frightful manual labor."

Jules snorted, and the awkward moment seemed to pass. "I think you missed your calling, Beau. You should have been an actor in a Shakespearean play, that was so moving."

We bantered like that until we reached Hoquiam, arguing over what 'ladies' and 'true men' should and shouldn't do. I maintained a lady should never be forced to lift anything over ten pounds, and ought to devote at least an hour a day to picking flowers, though of course not on days where the temperature was over eighty five, and never without a parasol for shade. Jules informed me that a true man must be able to kill a pig with a spear at twenty paces, build everything he owned himself without ever once looking at the instructions, and above all, never ask for directions. At which point we began adding and deducting points from each other based on what we could and couldn't do. Jules lost points as a lady for being able to fix cars, but gained some back for having long hair, and I lost a ton as a true man for not being able to bench press two hundred pounds, but got some back for instigating rebellion against the parents.

When we got into town, we had to break off our conversation as Jules needed to concentrate on finding parts. She was able to get everything she had put down on the list, and she seemed confident this would put both the bikes a long way to getting finished.

By the time we got back, we'd both pretty much decided that Jules would have to get a lacy white dress with a fan, and a wide-brimmed hat with a rose to shade her from the sun, and I would have to kill a bear with my bare hands and wear the pelt.

We spent the rest of the afternoon in Jules's garage, me sitting on the cinderblocks, watching her hands flash from one tool to the next. On her feet, Jules was often a little like me, awkward and uncoordinated. But when it came to working with her hands, they seemed to move like a dance. The time seemed to slip by far too quickly, and before long it was already dark outside, and we heard Bonnie calling for us.

I stood up from the blocks, stretching. I started to head for the tools, to help her put things away, or at least shove it all into her usual chaotic pile, but she waved a hand to stop me.

"Leave it, I'll be coming back to work on it again tonight."

My conscience needled me, and I worried she might get in trouble if she spent too much time on my project.

"You don't have to do that," I said. "There's no hurry. If you have homework or something..."

She made a dismissive gesture. "This is what I live for. I'm in the zone right now, I can't sleep when I get like this."

That didn't exactly answer the homework question, but I decided that could wait until later. Maybe we could even take a break from the bikes tomorrow to do our homework together. I smiled at the thought.

"Beau?"

Both Jules and I started as we heard Charlie's familiar voice wafting through the trees, sounding a little too close for comfort.

"Coming!" I called back quickly.

Jules grinned, evidently enjoying all the sneaking around. "Let's go," she said and, switching off the garage light, grabbed me by the wrist and towed me in the direction of the house.

It was dark out, and we could barely see the path in front of us. I nearly went sprawling over a tree root, but Jules reached out and grabbed my hand to stabilize me.

"Thanks," I said, laughing aloud, and she was laughing, too.

She continued on leading the way to the house, her feet finding the familiar path easily. She didn't let go of my hand. It was a little rough, but warm.

We were still laughing as we came into view of the house. I saw Charlie standing under the little back porch, and Bonnie sitting in the doorway behind. When Charlie caught sight of us, his eyes widened slightly.

"Bonnie...Bonnie invited us for dinner," Charlie said slowly, distractedly.

"Secret Quileute recipe for spaghetti," Bonnie said gravely. "Handed down for generations."

Jules rolled her eyes while Charlie and I chuckled.

The house was crowded. The Clearwaters, Holly and Saul, were there, too, along with their two children. Leland, or Lee, as most of them seemed to call him, was a senior like I was, but about a year older. He was almost ridiculously good-looking, tall, with flawless copper skin and wavy movie star black hair, though he remained apart from the company the entire time, eyes glued to the screen of his phone as he texted. Sarah was fourteen, and she seemed to look up to Jules with wide-eyed adulation.

The kitchen was too small to fit everyone, so Charlie and Holly took some chairs out to the yard, and we ate our spaghetti in the dim light from the open door. Everyone discussed the game, and Holly Clearwater talked a mile a minute as she tried to organize some more fishing plans, even though her social calendar, from the sound of it, was already crammed full. Her husband, Saul, who was a laid-back, easygoing sort of guy, tried to convince her of the virtues of slowing down to breathe once in a while, but she paid him no mind. Jules, Sarah and I formed a small group, and Jules told another story about school, which Sarah listened to with rapt interest. I could tell Charlie was watching me out of the corner of his eye, cautious, but pleased.

I felt like I could have stayed there forever, but of course, this was Washington, and eventually the inevitable rain broke up the party. Charlie had come up with the Clearwaters, so he rode back in my truck with me, asking me questions about my day. I answered honestly, though of course leaving a few key gaps.

"You think you'll visit again anytime soon?" he asked casually.

"I'm going there again tomorrow after school," I said, eyes on the road. "I said I'd bring some homework, we're both going to get behind."

"Good idea," he said, injecting a note of parental authority into his tone, though he couldn't quite fully disguise his satisfaction.

As we entered the house, I felt my good cheer slowly fade. Like last night, the last thing I wanted was to go upstairs. I'd been basking in the warmth and light of Jules's aura all day, embraced the sunlight, but now the sun had officially set, and the warmth had been replaced with dark and cold. I doubted the nightmares would give me a break for two nights in a row.

I woke too early in the morning and dashed to the bathroom in the darkness, where the familiar feeling of acidic bile tearing its way up my throat left me pale and shaking before the mirror. I looked up to see my face was white, with dark circles beneath my eyes.

This face was familiar, one I had seen so many times over the past months that the memories blurred together, a dark routine I could never break free from. However, within my usual nightmare, there had been something different this time.

In the woods, this time I hadn't been alone. Samantha Uley, the woman who had helped me that night months ago which I had systematically worked to block from my mind, had been there, watching my frantic search without emotion. She never made any move to help, only watched, silent, and whenever I looked away from her, her form seemed to shiver, then shift and change just at the periphery of my vision. I didn't know what it meant, except maybe my mental competence was deteriorating faster than I'd thought.

Charlie stared at me all during breakfast, studying my face. Perhaps looking for some sign I was slipping back into zombie-mode. I couldn't blame him. I half expected the zombie to come back too.

When I arrived at school and took a seat at my desk for first class, now that I was paying attention, I was struck with a sense of oddness. Unlike Charlie, absolutely no one paid any mind to me. No one spoke to me, or even greeted me. The eyes of teachers slipped past my desk as if I wasn't there. Apparently, while I'd been out of it, I'd turned into a non-entity. I did my best to listen in on conversations to get caught up on what was going on, but it was hopeless.

I took a seat beside Jeremy in Calculus.

"Hey, Jer," I said, with practiced nonchalance. "How was the weekend? Do anything else?"

Jeremy turned and looked at me as if I were a piece of slime on his shoe. Apparently, he still wasn't over the Port Angeles thing. "Just great," he said, then turned, feigning a particular absorption in the calculus book open in front of him, turning away a little further than was necessary so his back was partly turned to me.

My last class before lunch got out late, so the lunch table I normally sat at was almost entirely full by the time I arrived. Jeremy and Allen were there of course, along with Taylor, Erica, Colleen, and Logan. However, I noticed a few others, too. A tall redhead who lived just around the corner from my house, Kyle Marshall, and Aubrey Marks, from the family I'd bought the motorcycles. I wondered if this was their first day sitting here, or if they were regulars here and I'd just failed to notice until now. I was beginning to suspect it was more likely the latter. I really had been dead to the world the last few months.

I tried to catch up with the conversation.

McKayla and Colleen were talking about hair care products, so I quickly gave up on that one.

"Where's Becca?" Logan was asking Allen. "I've never seen her miss a day."

Logan looked different than I remembered. He'd grown out his bleach blond hair so he looked like a playboy. I wondered if he'd found out Taylor had a thing for long hair, or if they were even still together. It occurred to me that, for all I knew, he'd stopped hating my guts and transformed into a nice guy.

"Sick," said Allen, sighing. "Really sick. She's hoping it's just a twenty-four hour thing, we have a test in History on Wednesday and she really doesn't want to miss it."

"But you got a hot date in before that, right?" said Jeremy, grinning and winking. "For the weekend. Do tell."

Allen went a little pink around the ears, but otherwise didn't react to Jeremy and the no doubt dirty places his mind was taking him.

"Well, we were going to go hiking for a bit. Up north, almost to the hot springs. Becca packed us a lunch and everything. But...we ended up turning around and coming back."

"Hot springs," said Jeremy with a grin, one-tracked mind going full force.

"Why's that?" said Logan, who, like me, picked up on the slight edge in Allen's voice.

Allen looked reluctant to say anything. "Just as we were getting close to the trail head, we saw something," he said slowly. "Something big. We thought it might be dangerous."

"Saw something?" Logan repeated. "Like an animal?"

"Becca and I thought it was a bear," Allen said, frowning at the memory. "It was all black. But it was...huge. Really too big for a bear, but I don't know what else it could have been."

Logan snorted. "Seriously, you too? My brother tried to sell me that one, too. I can't figure out where this mass fantasy is coming from."

"Yeah, you're not going to see bears that close to the resort," Jeremy inserted, siding with Logan.

Allen's eyes were on the table, and he shrugged, but I could see his ears turning even more pink.

Logan shook his head, still chuckling derisively. McKayla was still deeply engrossed in her conversation with Colleen, and hadn't heard.

I jumped in. "No, it's a real thing. We had a hiker at Newtons on Saturday who was talking about it. Huge black bear, he said it was as tall as a man even down on all fours. Right?" I turned in McKayla's direction.

The table was suddenly, abruptly silent. They were all suddenly staring at me, and the shock on their faces couldn't have been more extreme if someone had suddenly stood up and dropped a bomb in the middle of the floor.

"McKayla?" I muttered, feeling like I'd been unexpectedly and unwelcomely thrust on stage of a play. "You remember. At the store, that guy who was talking about that massive black bear?"

"Um, yeah," she said, staring at me with the oddest expression I'd ever seen. I didn't see what the big deal was. I'd always talked to her at work, hadn't I? ...Or at least, I thought I had.

McKayla got her bearings and went on, "Yeah, there was a guy who said he saw a black bear bigger than a grizzly. He said he was planning to report it."

Logan wrinkled his nose, looking annoyed, and turned away to get Taylor's attention. Everyone went back to what they were doing, except for McKayla and Allen, who both smiled at me tentatively, and I smiled back.

McKayla asked me questions most of the rest of lunch, and Allen stuck with us too. When I went to go dump my tray, Allen came with me.

"Thanks," he said in his usual low, soft voice.

"No problem," I said. "But for what?"

"About the bear," he said.

I shrugged.

Allen put a hand on my shoulder and shook it lightly. "You okay, man?" he asked, looking at me straight, eyes concerned, but not weirded out like Jeremy. This was why I'd picked Jeremy to go to the movie with before. I liked Allen more, but he was also more observant.

I shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. But I'm feeling a bit better."

He nodded. "It's...good to have you back, man."

Just then, Logan shouldered his way past me, Jeremy next to him. "Great," he sneered. "Just what we need. _Beaufort_ back in action."

Allen shook his head, smiling a little in my direction as though to say _Don't pay any attention to him_.

"Hey," I said suddenly. "What's today?"

Allen's brow furrowed slightly. "January nineteenth. Why?"

I nodded. "Now that I think about it, it was a year ago yesterday I had my first day here."

The corner of Allen's mouth turned up in a hesitant smile as he glanced after Logan. "Not a lot's changed, huh?"

I smiled back. "Nope. Not in the slightest."

* * *

A/N: End of another one. It's fun posting fast, I actually sort of remember what happened in the previous chapter without having to read through everything again from the beginning. XD! (Different story when you generally go months or years between posts.)

Anyway, by the way, if any of you knows anything about motorcycles, if you see any errors, feel free to point them out. :j (I tried to look it up, and I found some good information on working on motorcycles in general, but...well, looking things up here and there isn't the same as having real knowledge. That's why most professional writers will consult real experts on particular subjects they aren't familiar with, because there are so many nuances you miss when you don't have a real understanding of something yourself. x3 I know SM has someone to advise her on all these car/motorcyle-related bits of the story.)

Thanks so much for reading, and for all your comments! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next chapter!

Posted 2/2/16


	8. Repetition

A/N: I finally got the audiobook of _Life and Death_ in at the library, and I started it yesterday. I figured it would be good to rejuvenate my memory on all those details I've long forgotten over the past few months...and I was just curious to find out how the performer did the reading. (I really like it what little I've read, I feel like hearing the story read by a male reader gives the story a different vibe and makes it feel less similar to Twilight. Or that's been my impression so far.)

Thanks for reading so far and for all your comments! Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 7: Repetition

I was in a hurry to get to the Black house, and I drove a little faster than usual. I was starting to worry a little, about this new addiction I was developing. Before, it had been the numbness. Now it was hanging out with Jules. I was afraid I was slowly turning into a user; taking too many prescribed narcotics just to relieve myself a little of the pain, only to find my life a series of going from one fix to the next.

But, when it came down to it, I really didn't care at this point. I'd never understood how addicts thought until now. Maybe addiction was a pretty terrible way to live, but when it was your only option available, to make it through each otherwise unbearable day—it was so much better than the alternative.

As soon as I pulled up to the house, Jules appeared in the doorway, face brightening as she laid eyes on me.

"Hey, Beau," she said. "You made it." She added in a low voice, "Ready to get started?"

"You're not sick of me yet?" I said as we headed around the house back toward the garage.

She grinned. "Not yet."

As we came around the bend to the entrance, an audible gasp escaped me. The pile of metal pieces was gone, and in their place was the red bike, actually looking very much like a motorcycle.

I shook my head. "I don't believe it. Was there a time warp I missed? You have a magic wand somewhere? It was a pile of junk yesterday."

Jules was grinning from ear to ear at my reaction as I walked around it, staring in open disbelief. She shrugged. "When I have a project, I get in this sort of zone."

She added in a mutter, almost to herself, "After all, if I had any brains, I'd drag it out a bit more."

I glanced down at her curiously.

Jules looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable, and her eyes drifted away from mine, settling back on the bike and the mess of tools laid out beside it.

"Hey, Beau," she said slowly, gaze fixed on the bike's left handle. "Let's say, I can't actually get these bikes running...or maybe I do get them running, and you learn how to ride...what then?"

I cocked my head at her, nonplussed. "I guess if our covert mission is a failure, or we get it done, it's on to the next one, right? Actually, I sort of told Charlie we'd do homework sometime. They gave me a pile just today. That mission might have to get some attention before the bikes, or we'll have Charlie and your mom both breathing down our necks."

Jules bent down, picking up a wrench for something to do with her hands. "So you'll keep coming?" she said, eyes still on the tools. "Even when we're done?"

I understood what Jules was driving at now, and I grinned. "Oh, I get it. You thought there was going to be an end. You thought you'd have an end date where you'd finally get rid of me. Too bad."

Jules finally looked up at me, and a slow smile spread across her lips, lighting her entire face. "You know what, I figured out why you keep coming here. You're hoping to run into Quil again."

My grin widened. "Okay, you caught me."

She looked up at me, and her eyes were wide with wonder. "Hey," she said, picking at a bit of wiring sitting beside the motorcycle wheel. "Do you really like being down here? Just doing things like...like this?"

I went to my cinder blocks and sat down, leaning back and getting comfortable. "Yeah. This is great. You have no idea." There was a lot more I could say. The blessing of not being miserable every minute of every day, of going through life numb to everything and having no hope for any enjoyment in anything. But I knew I could never express it adequately in words, and if I did, it would probably freak her out.

So I only said, "Tell you what. I have work tomorrow so I won't be here, but Wednesday we can give the bikes a rest and do something else. Like I said, I told Charlie we'd do homework eventually. We can meet at my house."

Jules winced. "Homework. Yeah, that might be a good idea."

"Maybe we should decide on a day every week," I suggested. "Just so we don't get so behind we end up with Charlie and Bonnie checking up on us. Actually, better make that twice a week—I am a senior this year, and they really like to dump it on."

Jules sighed, and she reached over her toolbox, where I noticed she'd left a paper sack full of groceries. She pulled a pair of soda cans off the top and tossed one to me. She cracked the lid on hers and I followed suit.

"Here's to responsibility," she said, raising it in a toast. "Twice a week."

I felt my face spread into a wide grin. "And recklessness every day in between."

* * *

School the next day wasn't too bad, though it wasn't all good either. Allen and McKayla seemed happy I was back, and seemed willing enough to overlook months of silence and neglect. Jeremy, however, wasn't ready to let the Port Angeles incident go, and I wondered if he was expecting a formal written apology.

At work, McKayla was unusually animated and chatty, even for her, and I found myself talking with her and laughing, even if it was more of an effort than it was with Jules.

"Today was a lot of fun, wasn't it?" she said as she scampered about the store from one place to another, getting everything ready to close down.

"Yeah," I said. Work and school today hadn't dragged like they usually did. Having something to look forward to—hanging out with Jules again Wednesday—really made a difference.

"Hey," she said casually. "About that movie you saw last week."

I glanced over at her, where she was busy folding up her work vest. I'd told her the story of our trip to the movies last week, just for something to tell, and of course Jeremy, who had been sitting nearby, had been only too happy to jump in and describe how I'd wimped out at the end.

"Maybe horror movies just aren't your thing," she continued. "Maybe we could go see something else, something you'd like more. What are you doing Friday?"

By now I could see where she was taking this, and I knew I had to do something. I liked McKayla, she had always been a loyal friend and stuck with me even when Jeremy was giving me the cold shoulder, or Logan was doing his best to sabotage me, but what she wanted was definitely out.

"Well..." I said uncertainly, stalling for time as I tried to figure out the best way to be diplomatic.

McKayla was studying my expression closely, and she seemed to pick up on my reaction.

"Not like a date or anything," she said. "At least if you don't want it to be. Just as friends." However, I could tell as her shoulders slumped slightly that she was disappointed.

"I...actually already have plans Friday," I admitted. However, I didn't want to alienate McKayla when she was one of the few people who'd forgiven me, so I added, "Maybe next week?"

"Oh," she said. She added, and I could tell she was trying to be nonchalant, "What kind of plans?"

I shrugged. "Homework. A friend and I are going to try to get some studying done."

"All right...Maybe next week then."

McKayla seemed to take the uncertain floating of this possibility as the polite rejection that it was, and she was a lot less exuberant as she waved me goodbye as I headed out to my truck.

I sighed. I almost felt like I'd gone back in time, and I was reliving the life I'd lived when I'd first arrived in Forks. Only there was one thing missing—in the familiar course of events was an empty, jagged hole, which had made everything before seem worthwhile.

Wednesday, Jules and I spent the afternoon on homework, as we'd sworn to do. I managed to find time to cook dinner—several nights I'd dropped the ball and come home late, and Charlie had had to order pizza, and I wanted to make up for that. Jules was forced to admit that being a master chef put me quite a few more points closer to being a real man. Friday was the garage—though even then I brought some of my homework I hadn't gotten done on Wednesday, as I had quite a bit more of it than Jules—then Saturday we went in for another round of homework together following my shift at Newton's. Charlie, Holly Clearwater, and her husband Saul went down to fish, leaving Jules and I to struggle through complicated formulas and biology diagrams.

After we were finished, we lounged around on the couch watching _Monster Garage_ on the Discovery Channel, which was one of Jules favorites, until Charlie got back.

Jules got up and stretched, looking to the clock. "I better be getting back," she said. "I didn't know it was this late."

"Sure, sure," I muttered, and my reluctance made her grin.

Jules obviously still didn't have her own car—she'd completely left off on her own project to help me with mine—so I drove her back in the truck. As we pulled up to the Black house, I said, "Tomorrow, we get back to work. What time should I come up?"

Jules opened the door to the truck and stepped partway out, but she turned back a minute, and her eyes were bright. "How about I call you, okay?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Uh, okay, sure."

Jules laughed as she slammed the truck door and skipped to the door.

* * *

Of course, I was about out of my mind with impatience the next morning. The night before I'd been plagued again with nightmares, and I was still trying to shake off the queasiness in my stomach, and the chills on my skin. This one had been slightly different from some of the others. Instead of wandering endlessly through the forest behind our house, I'd been out at—at that place. The familiar white house on the river I didn't often allow myself to think about. Only in the dream, the house hadn't been there. I'd run, pushing through the thick ferns and leaves of hemlock trees, searching, searching, but realizing there was nothing to find. I knew I wouldn't shake it off completely until I saw Jules again.

I started in on a massive cleaning job of the entire house to distract myself, and it was mid-morning by the time the phone finally rang. As Charlie was outside giving the cruiser a wash down, I immediately threw down the toilet brush and sprinted downstairs to get it.

"Hello," I said, a bit out of breath. "Swan residence."

"Mr. Beau Swan," the voice answered in an airy, though formal tone that vaguely reminded me of a desk secretary. "Your order has been completed. Please pick up at your convenience by five o'clock this afternoon."

I couldn't believe it. "They're done?" I said, stunned. " _Both_ of them?"

"Oh, yeah," said Jules, in her normal voice this time. "They're done all right. They don't exactly ride like a dream, but they'll ride."

"Wow," I said. "Just...wow. Did I ever tell you you're probably the most talented person I know? Seriously, you're a true lady if there ever was one."

I could hear the grin in Jules voice as she answered, "Thanks, I'll remember that."

"I'll be over in a few."

I slammed down the receiver and rushed back upstairs to dump the bathroom cleaning supplies under the counter, then raced back down, grabbing my jacket on the way out the door.

I drove a little faster than was probably good for my truck, then parked it some ways off from the house, near the trees, to give us some cover when we went to move the motorcycles. As soon as I got out, a gleam of bright color drew my attention, and I turned to see them, sitting there, under the cover of a spruce tree and invisible from the house. One was a deep crimson red, and the other a jet black. Though they both had noticeable patches of rust and wear, they were probably the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.

Jules came dashing out of the house, skidding to a stop just beside me. She spun to face me, eyes sparkling.

"You ready for this?" she said.

"Am I ever," I answered, though in truth, as I stood there, admiring them, I was having a disconnect inside my head, trying to picture myself actually on one.

Jules loaded the bikes onto the truck, and she let me feel like I was helping as we laid them down sideways so they wouldn't be visible from the outside.

"Okay, let's go," she said, breathless with excitement. "I know the perfect spot, no one will see us down there."

We drove south out of town, Jules filling the time rehashing all the different parts she had just finished putting in that morning and touchups she had done as I drove. The dirt road wove in and out of the forest, so sometimes we were surrounded by nothing but trees, other times catching breathtaking glimpses of the Pacific Ocean, dark gray under the heavy clouds. We were above the shore, on top of the cliffs that bordered the beach here, and the view seemed to stretch on forever.

I drove slowly, just so I could let my gaze wander from time to time to take in the vast expanse of the ocean now and again, as the road wound closer to the sea cliffs. My eyes roved over the endless rocky ledges, and as they did, I suddenly noticed four figures standing atop one of them. In my opinion, they looked like they were just a little too close to the edge.

The tallest figure stepped closer to the brink, and I found myself automatically slowing, watching closely, my foot hovering over the brake pedal.

Then the tall figure suddenly leaped off the edge.

I slammed on the brakes hard, causing both of us to strain against our seat belts.

"What?" Jules yelled, breaking off mid sentence and looking all around the road in front of us in alarm, trying to see the obstacle that had freaked me out. "What? What is it?" However, she turned and noticed my eyes weren't on the roads, but on the cliffs.

I was barely coherent. "That—there was someone just— _jumped_ off a _cliff_!"

Jules slowly relaxed in her seat, rolling her eyes. "Oh, that. That's just cliff diving. It's just recreation, no one's killing themselves."

I stared down at the gray water beneath the cliff and, certainly enough, after several panic-stricken moments a dark head emerged from the waves.

I shook my head slowly. "Cliff diving?" I repeated vaguely, watching as the second figure launched off the rock, thrusting arms forward like an Olympic diver. The fall seemed to take an age before the figure finally cut smoothly through the surface. It was so high. The thought of jumping from a height like that made me shudder.

"Yeah," Jules said with supreme disinterest, casually draping an arm over the side door. "Lot of teenagers around the reservation do it for fun. I've done it a few times. It's kind of a rush I guess."

I turned around to stare at her. " _You_ —" I began. "You've been jumping off cliffs?" If the idea of me jumping off one of those had sent a shiver down my spine, the thought of Jules doing it made me feel cold all over.

"Sure," she said, shrugging. "Course, most normal people who do it don't do it from there, they go from those rocks halfway down." She gestured and I followed her gaze, and I did think that place looked a little more reasonable.

Her mouth twisted with disgust. " _Those_ ones out there—they're just plain insane. I mean, that water is probably freezing, they could give themselves hypothermia doing that. But no, all they care about is acting tough."

The third figure went for it next, flinging themselves downward, and it suddenly occurred to me that I'd never witnessed anything so reckless in all my life.

"Hey, Jules," I said casually. "Once we're done with the bikes, we should go cliff diving."

She turned to stare at me like I was crazy. "You just about freaked a second ago. Now you're telling me _you_ want to go?"

I shrugged. "I'd just like to try it sometime. Maybe when it's warmer."

"Maybe," she said, though she looked uncertain. She eyed me up and down, as though she wasn't entirely sure I could swim.

I turned my eyes back to the cliffs, watching the fourth figure pacing back and forth just at the edge. I noticed Jules was watching too, and there was a touch of some emotion in her eyes, her brow furrowed, her mouth tight. Then the figure finally went, this one feet first.

"Do you know any of them?" I asked as I started the truck moving again. However, I doubted Jules could see them clearly from this distance.

But Jules surprised me. She shook her head, shaking herself from whatever thoughts she'd been having, then snorted. "Oh yeah, I know them all right. There's only one group at the reservation dumb enough to be doing that in this weather—Samantha and her flunkies. They think they're Amazon warriors, always running around, acting tough. Like one of those all-female gangs. They don't beat people up or anything, but—it's like they think they're the reservation's equivalent of the police. Like, one time there was this old woman on our land, and everyone said she was selling meth to the kids around the reservation—well, Sam and the others took it upon themselves to run her off."

"They sound like Charlie's Angels," I said.

Jules didn't smile, only continued to glare out the front windshield. Her normally cheerful, easygoing features were filled with tension, even anger. And—was I imagining it?—just a hint of fear.

"Well," I said bracingly, hoping to get the mood back to what it was before, "that really doesn't sound so bad. As long as they're not hurting anyone, and keeping things safe. It's good the reservation has someone doing that, right?"

Jules was silent at that, staring out the window, her expression impossible to read. After a minute, she said evenly, "You just missed the turn."

I had to execute a wide U-turn to get back on track, nearly taking out a tree or two in the process as the truck went off the road.

"Thanks for the heads-up," I muttered as we headed down the side road.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

The truck was quiet for a minute, until I was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"You can pull off anywhere along here," she said at last, voice low.

I took the truck off the road, going to park along the side. As the roar of the engine suddenly cut short, the following silence deafening. Jules got out and went around the back for the bikes. I got out the other side and tentatively followed.

As she pushed the red bike out and set it beside me, she took a deep, even breath, then forced a smile. "Ready?" she said.

"I hope so," I said, staring down at the bike. Still trying to imagine myself on it, and failing.

I pulled the bike around a little, leaning it against the side of the truck as Jules went to get hers.

"Jules," I said, slowly.

"Yeah?" she answered as I heard the light thump of the wheels of her bike as they connected solidly with the ground.

I hesitated. I knew that there was more upsetting her related to Samantha than just what she'd told me.

As Jules came around the side of the truck, our gazes met. I looked back at her evenly, without breaking eye contact.

"Tell me," I said somberly. "What's wrong? What's really going on?"

Jules stared back at me for a moment, then her eyes flickered away, a deep rift in her brow.

"I don't know," she said with frustration. "That's the problem."

Her eyes went back up to me. "You know a little about our tribe, don't you Beau? The Quileutes, I mean."

I shrugged. "Well, it's matriarchal, right? Leadership passed down from daughter to daughter—even last names, like Black. You have a council that runs things now, but your mom's technically the head...Other than that, I'm not sure."

Jules nodded. "My mom's always been treated...special. Even though she's not technically in charge, she's descended from our last chieftess, Elda Black, and the council always listens to her. But no one ever really treated me like that. I was just one of the kids like any of the others."

She hesitated, eyes dropping away from mine again. "Sam...she hasn't said anything to me directly. But these days she's always watching me. I keep getting this feeling like she wants _me_ to join her little gang—no, that she expects me to."

"You don't have to join anything," I said severely. "Course she wants you to join, you're strong, have a lot of skills, and maybe this whole descended-from-the-chieftess thing plays into it, too. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to, Jules. Don't pay any attention to her."

Jules gritted her teeth, and when her eyes flashed back up to mine, they were suddenly desperate. "But—but that's just it. I told you, I just can't figure out what's going on. Em just missed a week of school. Quil and I tried to visit her, but when we went to her house she was never home. And, when she came back—she was suddenly a part of Sam's gang. It was the same with Paula, and Jay—sick a week, then when they came back, they were suddenly following Sam around like her disciples.

"Like I said, Sam and her people act like they think they're Amazon warriors, kind of tough, like they think they're in training to go to war. But see, Em—Em isn't like that. She's shy, and quiet. Sam and her group bothered her even more than they did me, and she avoided them like the plague. Now—Now. She was out there. Out on the cliffs with the others, just now. I can't understand it. Quil and I have tried to talk to her, but she won't come near us."

Jules shook her head, pressing a fist to her forehead, as though trying to keep it all in. When she spoke again, her voice cracked.

"Em is one of my best friends, but I can't find out what's going on. I feel like—I feel like Sam did something to her. I feel like something happened and she didn't have a choice. I need to help her somehow, but I don't know how. And if that could happen to Em—what about me? Sam is looking at me like I'm next on her list—what if that happens to me too? What if I don't have a choice?"

I felt as though all Jules's fear and horror was spreading to me. Chills were running up and down my spine, and I felt a sudden surge of anger at Sam and her people. They thought of themselves as the good guys, policing the reservation. But if they were terrorizing people like Jules, and finding ways to force other members of the tribe to join them, obviously they weren't at all what they pretended to be.

"Have you tried talking to Bonnie about this?" I said seriously.

Jules gave a harsh, bitter laugh. "Oh yeah. Fat lot of help that was."

"What?" I said. "What did she say?"

Jules shook her head. "She just told me not to worry about it for now. I'd know when the time is right. I don't know what she thinks is going on, but she doesn't have a clue. She probably thinks it's some coming of age, puberty thing, but this is something else. Something...something bad."

I noticed the fist she had at her forehead was trembling slightly, and her other arm was wrapped around her torso, as though trying to keep herself together.

Before I even had time to think about what I was doing, I had my arms around her. "You always have a choice," I said, and my voice came out oddly rough. "She can't ever scare you into doing something you don't want to do. If things get worse, we'll do something about it. If it comes down to it, you can come live with Charlie and me. Nothing is going to happen to you."

Jules seemed startled for a moment, the arm she had around herself half moving away in surprise. Then, slowly, she slid her arms around my back, and I felt her bury her face in my shoulder.

We stayed like that a minute. I listened to the sound of her breathing as it slowed, and at last settled back into a normal rhythm.

I realized oddly that I didn't mind the extended contact. I wasn't used to being this close to another human being, either physically or emotionally. I'd never related very well to other people. The only ones I'd really felt emotionally connected to—hadn't been human. But Jules was so warm, and I was filled with a feeling different from what I'd felt the last time I'd embraced someone this way. I realized, this was what friendship felt like—real friendship.

At last Jules pulled away, and she gazed up at me. She was grinning a bit sheepishly, and I could see in her face that she was already back to her usual self.

"How many points do I get?" she asked.

I stared back at her, frowning. "Points?"

"Damsel in distress vibe," she explained. "I get a lot of lady points for that."

"Yeah," I said. "But you just lifted two motorcycles off the back of a truck. I'd say that knocks at least ten points off your total."

"Speaking of which," she said, grin widening slowly. "Should we get to it?"

I nodded, though I felt my own face get a little more serious. Thoughts of Sam and her people were still floating around inside my mind, but they faded as I reminded myself why I was here. I was here to ride a motorcycle. And I was riding a motorcycle because—

I cut that thought off where it was. I knew why I was here, so I didn't need to repeat it, even inside my mind. I was here to be reckless, I was here to break promises. And most of all, I was here to ensure I remembered—to make sure my nightmares didn't come true.

* * *

A/N: Another chapter fairly similar to the original in many ways...Just written a bit differently. I'm still experimenting a bit to find the right pacing and balance, so hopefully I'll get better as I go along. :J

Thanks so much for reading, and I very much love reading all your thoughts and comments! If you have a chance, let me know what you thought, and see you next chapter!

Posted 2/9/16


	9. Adrenaline

A/N: Back yet again~

Interestingly, this is the first time I've tried a posting rate this fast. (My usual time frame has been about six months lately, sometimes more, because I spend so much time revising and editing, and working on multiple projects simultaneously.) I think it's kind of a nice change of pace, and I'm hoping to keep it up, though I know eventually I'll probably hit some snags of chapters that need some more time to work themselves out...I guess we'll see.

Bit of a slow chapter this time, and not a lot different from the original...(Just coasting on SM's work, as usual.) But hope you'll enjoy it anyway, and we do have to get through these chapters to make it to the later ones. Thanks for reading, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 8: Adrenaline

"Okay, where's your clutch?"

I pointed to the lever on my left handlebar, but as I let go of the handle to do so, the bike wobbled dangerously, and I scrambled to grab it again.

"It won't stay up," I said, glaring down at it.

Jules laughed. "It will when you're moving. Now, where's your brake?"

"Behind my right foot?"

Jules shook her head vigorously. "No—don't worry about that one for now. Your brake is here." She put her hand over mine, curling my fingers around the lever just above the throttle.

I wanted to argue, but as I'd already had fifty points deducted from my total as a true man when Jules discovered just how little I knew about operating a motorcycle, I decided to hold my peace.

Jules continued, "Throttle?"

I twisted the right grip.

"Gearshift?"

I tapped it with my left leg.

"Okay," she said. "Good. You've got all the parts down now, I think. Now all that's left is to get you moving."

"Yeah," I said, wishing I could sound enthusiastic, but the word came out more like a squeak. Pure terror had grabbed a hold of my stomach, and it felt like it was contorting it into various shapes like a gob of Silly Putty. I told myself I was being stupid. I'd already lived through the worst thing that could happen in my life, hadn't I? I should be able to look death in the face and laugh.

My stomach wasn't buying it.

I stared down the long stretch of dirt road, bordered by walls of thick misty green on each side. The road was sandy and damp, but at least that was better than mud.

"Now, hold down the clutch," Jules told me. "Don't let go of it for anything. Pretend it's a live grenade, and the only thing keeping it from exploding in your face is that you're holding down the spoon."

I wrapped my hand around the clutch, squeezing so tightly I felt sweat break out on my palm.

"Okay," she said. "Next step is to kick-start it. Can you do it?"

Wordlessly, because most of my concentration was on keeping the grenade from exploding, I tried to lift my foot to come down on the pedal, but the whole bike teetered beneath me, and Jules had to catch the handle to keep it upright.

"Never mind, I'll do it for you this time," she said. She took a step back, then stomped down hard on the pedal.

The force of the movement sent the bike tilting again, and again she grabbed the handle to keep me from falling over.

"Still have the clutch?" she asked.

I nodded without speaking, my face probably white as a sheet. If Jules was keeping track, I would be losing a lot more man-points for this.

"Okay, I'm going to try again." She waited until I had both feet planted firmly on the ground, then put a hand on the back of the seat, and another on the handlebar, wrapping her fingers around mine to ensure the bike stayed steady, then stomped down again. She had to try it three more times after that before the ignition finally caught and the engine roared to life. I could feel the bike shuddering beneath me, growling like an angry animal. My grip on the clutch tightened.

"Now the throttle," she said. "Take it slow at first, not too much. And whatever you do, don't let go of the clutch."

Hesitantly, I twisted the right handle. In response, the bike snarled beneath me, and I swallowed, but Jules smiled broadly, looking satisfied.

"Now, put her into first gear. You remember how?"

I nodded again.

"Okay, do it."

I sat there for a long minute, before Jules reminded me, "It's your left foot."

"I know," I managed through gritted teeth.

Jules studied my expression uncertainly. "You sure you really want to do this, Beau? You look like you're going to be sick."

I nodded, teeth still clenched. I finally lifted my foot and kicked the gearshift down a notch, then quickly put my foot back on the ground.

"Okay, good," said Jules. "Now—very, _very_ slowly, ease up on the clutch." She took a step back from the bike.

I blinked. The last thing I wanted was to let go of the grenade.

When I sat there for another minute, Jules finally said, "You're not going to move if you don't let go of the clutch."

I didn't say that not moving actually didn't sound so bad right now. I took a deep, steadying breath. This was why I was here. Sure, people got killed on motorcycles all the time, but that was when they were out on the highway, weaving in and out of traffic at seventy miles an hour. Not on the first day of training. Or at least I hoped.

I shook my head, then steeled my resolve.

Carefully, very carefully, I let up, letting my death grip slowly loosen.

" _This is ridiculous, Beau."_

The voice came out of nowhere, and I sucked in a sharp breath in shock. In reflex, my hand came off the clutch.

The bike bucked like a startled horse, jumping forward then falling sideways. I hit the ground, the bike coming down half on top of me.

Jules ran up to me, jerking the bike off of me, looking a little alarmed. "Beau? Beau, are you all right?"

But my head was no longer on my surroundings.

" _This stunt is idiotic and infantile. What exactly are you trying to prove?"_

Jules was leaning over me, shaking my shoulder and looking anxious. "Beau? Are you okay?"

"Fine," I managed to mumble. "Great." I felt better than fine. I felt elated. The voice I'd heard in Port Angeles was back. Maybe I should have been expecting it—the last time had been when I'd felt like I might be in danger, and when the danger had passed, the voice had faded. But I hadn't consciously made the connection until now. It was the adrenaline—the adrenaline brought on these hallucinations.

It was like I'd gone for weeks without eating or drinking, until I was so exhausted I was past the point of feeling hungry anymore, and suddenly I had something in me. Now strength blazed to life in my limbs again. I felt ready for anything.

Jules was helping me to my feet, and she brushed the sand off my shirt. "You okay?" she said again uncertainly. "Did you hit your head or anything? You look a little unsteady."

I shook my head. "No, I'm okay." My eyes went back to the motorcycle. "How about the bike? I didn't damage it, did I?"

"No, it's fine. You just stalled the engine. That's what will happen if you let go of the clutch too fast." She still had a supporting hand on my back, and was eying me with concern.

"Okay," I said, feeling the excitement bubbling in my chest. "Let's go again."

"You sure?" Jules said uncertainly.

I shot her a grin. "Positive."

This time I tried to get the kick-start myself. It was tough; I had to really jump down on the pedal, and every time it made the bike try to fall over on me again. Jules hovered nearby, ready to grab the handle if she needed to.

When the engine finally caught, keeping my hand on the clutch, I twisted the throttle a touch, and heard the motorcycle rev beneath me. I glanced at Jules and grinned, and she couldn't help but grin back, eyes bright.

"Just go easy on the clutch," she reminded me.

" _You're going to get yourself killed,"_ the other voice snapped, a voice like satin. _"Is that what this is about? Suicide?"_

I felt my grin stretch wider, and I was consumed by a feeling of recklessness. This was great, this was wonderful.

" _You don't want to do this,"_ the voice said. _"Go home, Beau. Remember Charlie, and go home."_

"Ease off slowly," Jules repeated.

"I will," I said, and I almost laughed when I realized I was answering both of them.

This time I made sure to focus, not allowing the voice in my head to distract me. I carefully relaxed my hand, and then the gear caught, and I was off.

I felt the wind against my face, pushing my hair back in a wild tangle. Adrenaline coursed through my system as the trees blurred past me in a wall of misty green, and again I laughed aloud.

This was only first gear. I wondered what second gear could do.

" _No, pay attention Beau!"_ the voice commanded, a mixture of fury and alarm.

Too late, I realized the road was starting to curve toward the left and I was still headed straight. My instincts took over, and my right foot slammed down on the back break, just like I'd do in my truck.

The bike suddenly shuddered and gave an unsettling wobble beneath me, tilting wildly toward one side, then the other. I was still headed toward the trees. I turned the handlebars sharply in reflex to avoid collision, and the sudden shift of my weight was too much for the already unsteady bike. Still moving, it tipped onto its side, falling on top of me just as we struck something solid, bringing us to an abrupt halt.

I laid where I was amidst underbrush and greenery, dazed, and over the confusion of the snarling of the engine, I could hear a frantic voice yelling in my head.

As that voice faded, another drifted down to me as though from a long way off. "Beau!"

The roar of the engine suddenly stopped, and I felt a weight lifted from my leg. I rolled over, breathing deeply.

"Oh wow," I mumbled. "That was...that was something."

Jules's worried face sharpened into focus, and she had a hand on my shoulder. "Beau—Beau, are you okay?"

I sat up, grinning like a maniac. "Oh yeah. That was awesome! Come on, I'm ready for another go."

"Beau, I think we should get you to the hospital," Jules said, looking uncharacteristically serious. "You've got a huge cut on your forehead."

I put a hand to my head, and felt something wet and sticky. I couldn't smell it yet, so I wasn't sick. I tried to concentrate on the heavy smell of the damp moss of the forest.

"Sorry," I said.

"We better go." She slid an arm under mine and set my arm up around her shoulders. She helped me to my feet with surprising ease. "Don't worry, I'll drive."

"Okay," I said, handing over the keys. However, I glanced down. "What about the bikes?"

Jules thought for a moment, then leaned me against the tree I had run into for support. "Wait here," she said. Then she paused, biting her lip as she stared at my head wound again. "And here, you better take this."

She grabbed the edges of her large white T-shirt and began pulling it off.

I flushed. "Hey—You don't have to—"

However, before I could get my protests out she already had it off and offered the wad to me. Underneath she had on a skin-tight, sleeveless black muscle shirt, which left the russet skin of her strong arms exposed.

"It's bleeding really bad," she told me.

Wordlessly I took the shirt and pressed it to my wound, watching as she gunned the engine of her bike and raced back up the road to where the truck sat. She handled it with the ease of a pro, satin black hair whipping out behind her.

I was a little startled to see how far I'd gone in that little ride, the truck far back in the distance, and Jules hard to make out when she reached it. I watched her throw the bike quickly onto the truck bed, then run around to the driver's side door and start the engine.

I felt perfectly at ease as I watched her, and doubted my cut was as serious as it looked. Head wounds just bled more than most. I'd had worse.

Jules got out and rushed back to me, again putting an arm under mine and draping my other arm over her neck. "Okay, let's get you to the truck," she said.

"What about my bike?" I asked.

"I'll get it, don't worry." She frowned though, as though I really shouldn't be worrying about that right now. "Let's get you taken care of first."

"I'm really fine," I said, her shirt still pressed to my head. "It's just a little blood."

"Beau, I think you're going to need stitches," she said as she helped me in through the passenger door. "We should get you to the hospital straight away."

"Hold on," I said. I reached out and grabbed her arm, so she couldn't go back for my bike just yet. "I can't go to the ER looking like this—" I gestured down at the blood caked on my shirt—"Charlie will be sure to find out about it, and he'll ground me for life. Here's a plan—we'll go back to your house first, drop off the bikes, then go back to my house so I can clean up a little. Then we can go to the hospital."

Jules hesitated. "What about your dad? Won't he be there?"

"He has work today."

Jules did not look at all happy about the plan. Her eyebrows had pulled together, and her mouth was tight. However, I could see she knew that my way was the only way that wasn't going to put me under house arrest for the next decade. At last she nodded slowly.

As we headed back to Forks, I stared out the window, Jules's shirt still pressed against my head. I was smiling a little to myself. I considered today a great success in many ways. I'd gotten to be reckless, and pay back a broken promise for a broken promise. And then that hallucination—not just experiencing the hallucination, but uncovering the secret to what caused them. Which meant I might just be able to induce more.

"Beau?"

I glanced over at Jules, still smiling like an idiot. "Hmm?"

Jules was frowning. "I'm disconnecting your foot break tonight."

I winced. "Yeah, that might be a good idea."

I looked back at her, she staring straight ahead as she drove, brow still furrowed. Her arms were still bare, as was her collarbone, and her black shirt clung so tightly to her frame that I could see her figure more clearly than I had before. The powerful muscle stood out clearly on her arms, but she was still somehow slender, with the wiry, sinuous build of a gymnast rather than a female lineman. And the shade of her deep russet skin was nice against the black of her long satin hair.

I realized I'd never really appreciated before now just how...sort of beautiful she was.

Jules noticed me staring. "What?" she said.

I blinked and looked away, embarrassed. "Nothing. Just—aren't you cold?"

I was shivering in my jacket, and I reached forward to turn up the heat.

She shrugged. "Not really." Her eyes returned to the road.

I leaned back in my seat, turning my own gaze back toward the window.

* * *

I had to get seven stitches. I told Charlie I'd tripped in Jules's garage and hit my head on a hammer. He seemed to buy that just fine. However, he was a little more skeptical when I showed up in the ER again a week later, and Dr. Gerandy called Charlie to warn him I might have a concussion, and to wake me up every two hours through the night.

"Maybe you should just stay out of the garage," he suggested that night over dinner, frowning pointedly.

The possibility Charlie might try to forbid me from going down to La Push altogether had me thinking quickly. "This one didn't happen at the garage," I said. "We went out hiking today...I just kind of tripped over a tree root."

Charlie knew I wasn't the hiking type, but then, I wasn't the hang-out-in-a-car-garage type either. However, he still seemed suspicious.

"Okay," he said, still frowning. "But if you kids are going to be out hiking, make sure you stick close to town. We've been getting a lot of wildlife complaints. The forestry department is checking into it, but it could be dangerous if some of those reports are true."

I stared at him. It took me a second to get it. "You mean that bear I've been hearing about? You really think there's something to that?"

Charlie shook his head. "I don't know if it's a bear, but there's _something_ out there, that's for sure. Stick close to town, Beau, I mean it."

"Yeah, sure, we will," I said. However, Charlie continued to watch me closely through the rest of dinner, still frowning.

* * *

"Maybe we should cool it with the bikes for a bit," Jules suggested. It was after school on Friday, and I'd just told her about Charlie's mounting suspicion.

The idea wasn't my favorite. I was addicted to the voice of my hallucinations whenever I got on the bike, and the anticipation of hearing them had also made the nightmares more endurable, too. Now, even though I still had to face the sense of nothingness, in the dream I always knew it was going to end. Hope was a powerful, if temporary, anesthetic.

However, I did see her point. If Charlie did find out what I was doing behind his back, I'd probably never see the bikes again.

I frowned, folding my arms. "What should we do then?" I wondered if there was anything else dangerous we could do that wouldn't give me so many bruises.

Jules grinned cheerfully. "Whatever you want. Your call."

I tried to think. And then, a certain place flickered in my memory. My favorite place in the world, at least once upon a time.

I didn't know what it would do to go there again—if it would be wonderful, relieving, like hearing that familiar voice in my head, or if it would rip my wounds open afresh. But maybe seeing it would help keep the memories solid, keep locked in my head what I was so afraid to forget.

I remembered what Charlie had said about sticking close to town, and my new irresponsible, reckless streak flared. That decided me.

"Well, there's this place," I began. "I'd like to find it." The corner of my mouth turned up in a slow smile. "I don't suppose you'd be up for a little hiking?"

* * *

For the first time in my life, I used my twenty-percent discount at Newton's to buy some gear. A backpack for a few light supplies, some good hiking boots, a topographical map of the Olympic Peninsula, and a compass. My college fund took another hit.

As McKayla rung me up, she eyed me curiously, and asked me—trying to be casual, I could tell—what sort of plans I had. I answered with something vague and evasive, and hurried out.

Saturday afternoon, I gathered everything together and hurried down to La Push.

We couldn't start right away, as Jules had to make up our plan of attack. She thought we could find my meadow if we searched in a grid pattern, and she drew a series of complicated lines on my map while I sat on a kitchen chair and made conversation with Bonnie. To my surprise, she didn't seem at all concerned about our plans. In light of the fuss people had been making about the bear sightings, I would have expected a little more resistance.

"I'm hoping we'll get a glimpse of the bear," Jules said with a laugh as she drew a particularly winding line across the forest. "If we get a picture, maybe it'll make us famous."

I would have rather she didn't bring it up and test our luck, but apparently I didn't have much need for worry, as Bonnie remained relaxed, not responding at all as I knew Charlie would have. "Maybe you should carry a jar of honey in that pack, just in case."

Jules grinned. "Good idea. If we can get it to come close, we can get a good shot."

I snorted. "Oh yeah. If we see a megabear running at us, let's stop and get a picture. That's what anyone would do."

Jules winked at me. "It's all in the interest of science. Sometimes you have to take risks."

I shook my head, though I couldn't help smiling just a bit.

Jules finished putting the last line on the map, then folded it up and slid it into the back pocket of her jeans. "Okay, that's it. Let's go."

"Have fun," called Bonnie lightly, wheeling toward the refrigerator. I watched her slack, relaxed posture with some surprise.

Charlie was normally pretty easygoing for a parent. But by comparison, Bonnie made him look like a dictator. I'd always thought Bonnie would be the stricter of the two, but maybe I'd just read her wrong.

I drove us up to the very end of the dirt road, exactly where I remembered going before, coming to a stop just beside the sign that marked the beginning of the trailhead.

I felt memories teasing the edge of my mind, making my stomach tighten nervously. This could be a bad idea. I'd been fairly pain free the last while, besides at night and the inevitable nightmares, and I had no desire to throw myself back down to where I had been.

But now that the idea was in my head, I couldn't seem to get it out. I had to go see it. If I was lucky, I might even hear _her_ voice again.

I climbed out of the truck, slamming the door behind me, then scanned the forest line. I knew the place we had gone before immediately, as though it had been yesterday.

"There," I said quietly, pointing. "It was there I went before."

Jules raised an eyebrow. "Really? You didn't take the trail?"

I glanced back at the clearly marked trail, then back at the spot we had gone. I shook my head. "No." I forced myself to smile a little. "I'm a rebel, remember? It's one of my true-man attributes."

Jules snorted, then drew out our map and went to work with the compass, figuring out which way was north.

We walked for a while in the shade of the trees, Jules whistling cheerfully and checking the map and compass every so often. She seemed oddly comfortable out here, doing this, as though she were experienced with terrain navigation, too. Maybe she was. I wondered vaguely if that should add or subtract from her lady points total—My lack of knowledge definitely subtracted from mine.

I found my thoughts wandering, and they eventually wound back to the sea cliffs. I'd been thinking about that a lot for awhile, waiting to see if Jules would bring it up again. But it seemed like I was going to have to say something if I was going to find out if there had been any developments.

"Hey...Jules?" I said tentatively.

"Yeah?" she said, using her finger to trace something on the map, then glancing up at our surroundings again.

"What's going on with Em? Have you been able to talk to her at all yet?"

Jules stopped walking, and she stared straight ahead.

"...No," she muttered at last. "Still the same."

"Still hanging with Samantha?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Just like a cult."

I was standing just behind her, and her hand, hanging at her side, moved a little back, reaching back to grip my hand. She continued to stare out at the forest ahead of us, her face troubled.

"Nothing else has changed, either," she said. "Sam's still watching me. And my mom still hasn't been any help."

I squeezed her hand. "You can always come stay with us."

She laughed. "That would go over well with my mom. Going to live with a couple of bachelors. Forks would have something to gossip about for years."

We both laughed then, and the moment of darkness seemed to pass. We started going again, Jules whistling and occasionally breaking the silence to make some joke.

We halted when Jules said we'd gone about six miles, cut west for a while, then started back along another line of the grid. As far as I could tell, everything looked exactly the same as it had on the way in, and I was starting to think the quest was pretty much hopeless. However, Jules's confidence didn't seem in the least shaken.

"As long as you're sure we're starting from the right place, we'll find it," she said. "Just be patient, these kind of things take time."

The sun had nearly set by the time we made it back to my truck, and we made plans to come back and search a few more lines of the grid tomorrow. I decided I would have to invest in some flashlights for next time, I could barely seen in this light.

"Well," said Jules, "we didn't find it yet, but we will. Hope at least we see that bear tomorrow, I'm sort of disappointed about that."

"Yeah," I said, rolling my eyes as we both climbed into the cab. "Maybe we'll get lucky and one of us will get eaten."

Jules laughed. "Bears don't eat people. Maul us when we get too close to their cubs, sure, but they don't eat us. We don't taste that good."

She turned and grinned at me across the seat. "Course, you do have a low true-man count. So you might be an exception. Tender meat."

"Thanks," I muttered. My eyes drifted back to the window, and it occurred to me that Jules wasn't the first person to tell me I'd taste good.

* * *

A/N: Again, not much different this chapter. And I was definitely totally reliant on SM for how to operate a motorcycle. Well, hopefully next chapter should be a little fun, for some reason it's been kind of one of my favorites. x3

Thanks so much for reading, and if you have a chance, let me know what you thought! :J See you next time!

Posted 2/16/16


	10. Third Wheel

A/N: Hey! I was really floored by the response last week, you guys are amazing. I'm thrilled to see there are so many Life and Death fans out there...

I was actually planning to get to this first thing in the morning yesterday, but then I got unexpectedly sick Sunday night, and I was basically useless the whole next day. X3 (I'm still not sure what it was, but I thought it would be really ironic if it was the stomach flu. But it didn't seem to last long enough for that...) I'm still not feeling all that great, so if I sound a bit out of it, that's probably why. x3 (I'm chained to my bed right now...)

I've really been looking forward to this chapter for some reason...Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end!

* * *

Chapter 9: Third Wheel

Time seemed to speed up, and the days slipped by. Where before, each minute of every day had often seemed to drag on for an eternity, now I had an expected routine to keep me occupied. School, work, and hanging out with Jules every bit in between. It was a period of relief, and even though I knew I could be sucked back down into my previous state at any moment, at least now I had something to distract me.

"You know what day it is?" Jules asked out of the blue. It was one of our homework days, and we had our textbooks spread out across the tiny kitchen table in her house.

I blinked and looked up from the word problem I'd been working on for the last quarter of an hour. "Should I?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're in the negative on true man points now. Unless you actually do know, and you're pretending not to."

I stared at her blankly, mystified.

"Yeah," she said. "I knew it. You have no clue. Okay, here's the hint. You do know it's February now, right Beau? You at least know that much. The day is really well known. It starts with _V_ and ends with _ine_."

I blinked again and blurted, "It's—it's _Valentine's Day_? Today?"

Jules was pretending to be annoyed, but she seemed positively delighted with my cluelessness. "Somebody get this guy a medal. Really, Beau, not even one tiny, fifty-cent box of candy? I repeat—failure as a man."

In fact, it didn't at all surprise me that I'd completely forgotten Valentine's Day. The days had been rolling by, one after another, an endless cycle on repeat, and I hadn't been paying much attention.

Jules casually reached into her bag and pulled out a small box and tossed it to me. Of course I missed it and it ended up on my math book. I picked it up and found it was a white box of conversation hearts.

"How many points do I get?" she asked, grinning. "I think I should get double since you dropped the ball."

I grinned back. However, I felt the barest flicker of uncertainty.

Despite the way I acted, I wasn't entirely clueless where things stood between Jules and me. From the first time I'd really met her down at La Push on the beach trip with McKayla and the others, she'd shown signs of interest in something more than just friends. And there were moments here and there where she seemed to drop hints. Jules wasn't a shy or secretive person, and she generally showed what she was thinking or feeling openly, but at the same time she wasn't the pushy type.

There was a part of me that wondered if I needed to be more up front. If I need to start thinking of a way to somehow convey to her that that just wasn't a possibility...That the part of me that had once been capable of that was irreparably broken.

But that seemed a little heavy to just bring out in normal conversation. And the last thing I wanted to do was risk chasing her away.

"So," said Jules. "What are we doing tomorrow? Hiking or ER?"

"Hiking," I said, bringing my mind back to earth. "I can get in the zone just as much as you. Although by now I'm starting to wonder if I completely imagined that place..." I frowned into space.

"I'm sure we'll find it," Jules said, then added with a grin, "Bikes Friday?"

I looked away. The bikes might be outliving their excitement for me. I was actually getting pretty proficient with my bike, which had won me back some man points and was resulting in fewer bandages to freak out Charlie, but it also meant that I hadn't been hearing the voice anymore. The silence of the voice scared me, and I knew I'd have to find something else adrenaline-inducing to meet my need. The possibility I might hear the voice when I found the meadow again also had me throwing myself obsessively into that.

However, I suddenly had an idea, and before I had a chance to think it through, I said, "Actually, I've been telling some of the people at school I'd catch a movie with them sometime, and I've been putting it off for forever. I'm sort of figuring on Friday for it."

Jules looked visibly disappointed, and she looked away quickly to hide the expression. "Oh," she said.

The look was too much for me, and I added in a hurry, "Hey, you should come, too. Unless you think it would be weird to hang out with a bunch of seniors."

Jules blinked and glanced back at me. "You'd really want me to go? When all your other friends are there?"

"Yeah," I said. I couldn't stop myself from adding, "To be honest, it'll be more fun if you're there. Bring Quil, too, if she wants to come. The more, the merrier."

Jules grinned. "Oh yeah, she'll be there. She's going to freak out. Senior guys always get a high ranking." I didn't mention Em, and neither did she.

I grinned back. "I'll try to get her a good selection."

* * *

McKayla was happy enough about the idea of seeing a movie on Friday, though she seemed a little disappointed when it became clear that this was going to be a group event. We'd have to get Allen and Becca, of course, Erica and Kyle, along with Jeremy, Taylor, Colleen, and I even tacked on the possibility of inviting Logan, too, just for good measure.

"There's also a couple of friends down from La Push I'm inviting," I said. "So we'll need your Suburban if everyone comes."

McKayla looked abruptly wary, though her voice was light as she asked, "Are these the friends you spend all your time studying with now?" Every time McKayla had hinted at the possibility of doing something together some evening, I'd given her my studying-with-friends excuse.

"Yeah," I said. "A couple of sophomores. It's been kind of like tutoring."

"Oh," she said, smiling a little. She asked, "So what movie did you pick out?"

I'd done my research this time, and I knew the one. "I'm thinking _Crosshairs_. That one looked good."

McKayla looked surprised. "That one? But didn't you get sick at _Dead End_? I thought you didn't like those kind of movies."

"Yeah," I said, doing my best to look sheepish. "I sort of feel like I want to redeem myself."

McKayla shook her head. "Just ignore Jeremy. There's nothing wrong with being sensitive. In fact—with practically all the guys in our school trying to act like tough guys all the time, it's kind of a nice change."

She suggested, "We could see something else. What about _Bluefire_? That action movie based on the book series. Lots of shooting and running, but not so much gore."

I shook my head. I'd looked at Bluefire, but there was a romantic subplot I didn't feel up to dealing with. "No, I really want to see _Crosshairs_. I think I'll like it, I was just feeling off last time."

"Well, okay," said McKayla, though not looking entirely convinced.

In the end, we probably wouldn't have needed McKayla's Suburban. Jeremy, still miffed about the Port Angeles thing, ditched out as soon as he found out I was involved in the planning, and Logan didn't need a reason to sneer and refuse anything involving _Beaufort_. Erica and Kyle already had plans, as apparently that day was their three-week anniversary. Logan, no doubt doing his best to spite me, made plans with Taylor and Colleen before McKayla could ask them, so they were also out. Even Quil wouldn't be there, as her parents had finally grounded her for endlessly staying out way beyond curfew. So in the end, McKayla and I were down to only Allen, Becca, and, naturally, Jules.

McKayla didn't seem at all disappointed by the smaller and more personal group, and I had a feeling she was privately happy at Logan's behind-the-scenes subversion.

The afternoon of the movie, I got home from school to find a very familiar car parked in front of our house. Jules was leaning against it, grinning so broadly I could see all her white teeth gleaming, standing out from her deep russet skin.

"Oh, no way," I said, as I climbed out of my truck and shut the door behind me. "No freaking way. You finished it?"

"She's all done," Jules said, patting the hood of the Rabbit 1986 with satisfaction. "So, you think I get to drive tonight?"

"Definitely," I said. "You are without a doubt, the most awesome person I know."

She grinned broadly. "Well, we both already know that. But the question is, am I getting lady points deducted for this?"

I laughed. "Just a few. But it's worth it, right?"

"Definitely."

I glanced over and saw McKayla's Suburban come around the corner. Jules looked up, too, and as her eyes swept across the driver's seat, her smile shrank a little, only to return full measure with a mocking quality.

"Oh," she said. "I remember this one. Is she still trying to make people think she's your girlfriend? Still hasn't given up, huh?"

I shrugged. "Honestly, I can't figure it out. I don't know what she sees to keep going this long. I think she just must be the dogged type."

"I know what she sees," said Jules, looking back at me, and far from her usual discomfort, there was a little smile playing on her lips, her dark eyes full of meaning. "And you know," she said, "sometimes a little doggedness is all it takes."

McKayla got out of her car and crossed the road. She was a little dressed up, her long blond hair fixed back in a french braid, lips painted with a clear lip gloss with a tinge of pink, and even a miniskirt, though she wore black leggings underneath to stave off the cold. She had on a silk scarf, and I could see a frilly white shirt underneath her coat.

"Hi, Beau," she called to me, then her eyes flickered to Jules. McKayla was the athletic type herself, always shined in school sports, and did a lot of outdoors stuff with her parents. However, seeing Jules's tall frame with her arms folded, lean muscles obvious even through the thin jacket she was wearing, she looked just a little intimidated.

"Hey," I said, then gestured to Jules. "Remember Julie Black?"

McKayla tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage it. She looked uncertain for a moment what to do, then at last came forward, tentatively offering her head. "Pleased to meet you."

"Beau's dad knew my dad really well," Jules said cheerfully. "You could say our families are old friends."

McKayla seemed to read the challenge in this assertion, and she dipped her head, though her eyes didn't break from Jules's.

Jules reached out a hand to shake McKayla's without unfolding the other one, and though it looked as though she barely squeezed for a second, McKayla yanked her hand away, rubbing her fingers as though to restore circulation. She eyed Jules with newfound wariness.

I heard the phone back in the kitchen ringing and, a little eager to escape the sudden tension in the air, I said, "That could be Charlie, I better get it." I raced inside.

When I returned back out, I moved much slower than I had going in, and I found the palpable tension in the air had not in the least abated, though Jules was smiling and looked like she was enjoying herself.

"Was it Charlie?" Jules asked. "What did he say?"

I shook my head. "That was Becca. Sounds like Allen came down with something all of a sudden, he's been throwing up since he got home from school. Probably the flu. And of course Becca's not coming if Allen's not."

"That's too bad," said McKayla. "Maybe we should hold off and do it some other day."

I opened my mouth to concur. My great plan wasn't looking so great now that it was just down to the three of us—the last thing I needed was an evening finding myself in the middle of some kind of a tug of war, or worse, refereeing a fight where Jules probably ended up pasting McKayla to the theater walls.

Unfortunately, Jules got there first. "I think we might as well go," she said. "I mean, we can always see another movie another time, right? And we're already here." She added, glancing in McKayla's direction, "Of course, if you'd rather not go...Maybe this is too violent a movie for you."

McKayla glanced between the two of us, then said quickly, "No, I'm up for seeing it." She added, almost defensively, "I like horror and slashers."

Jules shrugged, still grinning in that way that I was sure had to be getting under McKayla's skin. "Suit yourself."

McKayla's shoulders were slightly hunched and tense as she started to turn back toward her Suburban, but I reached over and tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey, McKayla?" I said.

She turned back to me, and she seemed to make an effort to look better humored. "Yes?"

I grinned sheepishly. "You mind if Jules drives? I told her she could. She just finished building it herself." I gestured at the Rabbit.

McKayla's attempt to look affable again slipped back a little. "Does it really run?" McKayla sniffed, with an uncharacteristic touch of nastiness.

Jules wasn't offended, and if anything, seemed to enjoy the hostility. "Oh, she runs all right. I drove her all the way down here from the reservation. I'd guess she runs better than that clunker you have there. But if you're afraid of getting stranded in a breakdown, you can always go home. Don't worry, we won't miss you."

McKayla was looking openly bad-tempered now, and she wordlessly stalked around the side of the Rabbit and climbed into the back, sitting there with her arms folded.

"Princess needs to learn to lighten up," said Jules in an undertone. "Or her face could get stuck like that."

"Be nice," I muttered back as I went around to the passenger's side.

Jules laughed softly. "I'll try." I didn't believe her.

Jules seemed perfectly at ease, and acted as though McKayla wasn't there, relating a few new funny stories she had added to her arsenal until I was laughing. McKayla was silent in the back, arms still folded. At last when Jules took a breath, she cut in, still with that slight touch of sour grapes, "Didn't you install a radio when you built this thing?"

"Sure I did," said Jules easily. "Great sound system. But Beau doesn't like music."

I blinked, startled. I'd never told her that. I'd never told anyone that.

"Really?" said McKayla, sounding skeptical.

"Yeah," I said, still stunned. "I don't."

McKayla frowned deeply, and turned her eyes to looking out the window the rest of the trip.

When we got to the theater, Jules handed me a crumpled up ten-dollar bill so that I could buy her a ticket into the movie. I'd forgotten this was an over-eighteen movie, and Jules was still sixteen.

"Hey," I said, feeling guilty. "Maybe we should see something else." I felt like a heel sneaking in an underage girl to see a slasher flick. But even as I made the suggestion, my gaze flickered apprehensively up to the giant sign for the only other movie showing at this time, _Tomorrow and Forever._ A romantic comedy. I think I blanched.

Jules waved a hand. "It's cool. My brothers took me to movies like this all the time. I think my first one was when I was ten."

I frowned. "They did?" I couldn't help but think if I had a younger sister, I would be a little more responsible than that.

"Sure. So I'm good. Besides, if we changed movies now, horror-lover over here would be really disappointed."

I visibly sagged with relief. "Well, if you're sure..."

McKayla was still looking a little sullen and out of humor. I wished my plans for a big group hadn't fallen apart, I felt partially responsible for creating this somewhat exclusionary dynamic. I hadn't meant for it to turn out like this, and Jules was not helping.

The movie turned out to be exactly what it looked like in the online summaries. Before the opening credits were finished, four people got blown up and one got beheaded. McKayla had taken a seat on one side of me, and I glanced down out of the corner of my eye, and noticed McKayla didn't even seem to be watching. Her face was tense, and she was glaring toward the fringe of curtain above the screen. I wasn't sure if that was because she was still annoyed about Jules taking her car, or that Jules had taken up the seat on my other side.

At first, I didn't really pay attention. I just watched the shapes and colors as they moved across the screen, until Jules suddenly snorted softly beside me and shook her head.

"What?" I whispered.

"Come on," she said in an undertone with derision, beneath the the sound of blazing gunfire and endless screaming. "The blood squirted twenty feet from that guy. How fake can you get?"

She chortled to herself as a flagpole speared another man into a concrete wall.

Before long, I found myself laughing too, as the mayhem grew increasingly outlandish. Funny—No matter where we were or what we were doing, even something torturous that I expected I would have to just grit my teeth and bear, with Jules there, it inevitably turned into something fun. Jules being there made all the difference.

But how, then, would I continue to keep things standing the way they did now between us—just friends—when it was so obvious to her and everyone else that I liked being with her so much?

McKayla had leaned a little toward me several times in the movie, as though to make it easy for me to put my arms around her shoulders. Jules leaned toward me too, though I wasn't sure if that was to let me put an arm around her, or if that was just so she could maintain her nonstop string of critical commentary. I kept my arms folded tightly across my chest anyway.

Partway through the movie, McKayla abruptly pulled away from me, and for a moment I was worried she had reached her limit and, like Jeremy, she was going to be put me on a black list from now on. However, she pitched forward, arm around her stomach, a hand covering her mouth.

"Hey," I said, concerned. "What's wrong?" A couple in front of us turned around to see what was going on.

"I don't...I don't feel good," she groaned. I noticed suddenly that she was pale and there was a sheen of sweat covering her face.

I stood up quickly, though not exactly sure what I should do. Awkwardly, I reached out to put a hand on her back. "Hey—" I said. "Let me—" However, by the time I moved, McKayla was already on her feet, and she dashed down the empty row of chairs and pushed through the theater doors.

I stared after her a minute, then started lumbering down the aisle after her, tripping on a few chairs on the way. I heard a guy from the row behind us mutter, "Yeah, loser, you _better_ go after her." I could only guess he'd been watching my rigid, determinedly non-protective posture throughout the movie with disgust.

I heard Jules get up to come with me, and I gestured for her to stay, but she ignored me and followed me up the incline to the hallway outside.

"Hey," I said. "You spent eight bucks on that, you might as well get to watch it."

Jules laughed. "I've seen good slasher movies, and I've seen bad ones. That one was definitely bad. You really know how to pick 'em, Beau."

McKayla wasn't anywhere to be seen, and I was glad then that Jules was there, as she slipped into the women's restroom to see if she was there. She came back not long later, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, she's there. And after that big deal she made about loving slasher movies, too."

The hallway was deserted, as both theaters were halfway through their movies, and the two of us were alone. I could faintly hear the popcorn popping at the concession counter in the lobby.

Jules strode over and casually sat down on one of the velveteen benches against the wall, propping up one foot on a nearby potted plant. The plant was something exotic, with a tropical flavor.

"Come on," she said, patting the seat beside her. "From the looks of her, we could be here awhile."

I didn't know why, but something in Jules's expression made me a little uneasy. It was like the expression she had when she'd told McKayla that our dads had been old friends. Although Jules had never really seemed to push to move us beyond something other than where we seemed to be going naturally, it was like seeing McKayla had awakened some dormant competitive instinct. Like Jules suddenly realized she had something to prove. I couldn't know what would happen now.

Reluctantly I went and sat down beside her. She had one arm resting on her bent leg, and her head was leaning casually against her fingers. She didn't say anything, only looked at me for a long moment, never glancing away.

"What?" I said at last.

"Tell me something, Beau," she said. "Do you like me?"

I didn't know how to answer. "I...like hanging out with you," I said cautiously.

"Amounts to the same thing," she said. "You like being with me, more than being with princess in there puking her guts out. Right?"

"Yeah," I said slowly.

"You like being with me more than anyone," she said, and this time it was a statement, not a question.

My stomach was tight. Fear had taken a hold of it. I had no choice but to answer honestly. But if she started pressing for more...and I had to be honest about that...and everything fell apart...how could I go back? How could I go back to nothing after living in this blessed reprieve for so long?

"Yeah," I said, and my voice was low, almost a croak. "You're my best friend."

"But that's all," she concluded.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

To my surprise, Jules grinned. "That's okay," she said bracingly. "As long as I'm at the top of your list. I'm a dogged person, and maybe I don't look it, but I can be patient when I want to be. It took me forever to finish the Rabbit. But I just had to wait for all the parts to come my way."

I didn't know what to say. My chest was tight. The last thing I wanted was to drive her away, but how could I just let things go along, keeping her tied to me with false hope? She was a rare gem in this world, a bright, happy person that could make everything around her warm and brighter, too. Did I have the right lure her in with a bit of plastic bait, set a hook in her mouth, and reel her in just to bring a bit of ease to the great black chasm where my heart used to be?

I shook my head. "Jules..." I began, and my voice cracked. "I'm...I'm just not good for that sort of thing anymore. Nothing is going to change."

Jules looked at me, and her teasing smile turned to a pensive expression. "It's still her, isn't it?" she said.

I felt a sharp pain in my chest, and my eyes dropped. Weird, how she seemed to know not to say the name, when even Charlie hadn't realized it. Like in the car, with the music. I was beginning to realize she was a lot more observant than I'd ever guessed.

She suddenly reached over and casually took my hand in hers—it was surprisingly warm.

"I'm giving you some points," she announced.

"Points?" I said, frowning. "You mean man points? For what?"

She grinned. "For not using the 'You're like a sister' line. That is such a cop-out."

I was surprised. "I didn't even think of that."

"And," she added, meeting my eyes. "For being honest. I don't know exactly what you've been through, and you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I know guys are just supposed to be tough and stoic, and never shed a tear about anything. But you know what I think? I think heartbreak is heartbreak, no matter who you are."

At her candid words, I expected the pain in my chest to explode, to lash out at me, and try to drag me under. But as I looked back at her, I didn't feel anything of what I expected to feel. Instead, I felt—almost relieved. Somehow, when I was with Jules, even on days that had the potential to be the worst I felt okay. It was ironic, because she understood that there was a part of me that was broken—and because of that, when I was with her, I could feel whole, at least for a while.

We gazed at each other for a long minute, until the moment was broken as McKayla emerged from the bathroom, leaning against the frame and looking haggard.

"Would you..." she panted. "Would you mind terribly if we left a little early?"

"Of course not," I said, going over to her and putting a hand on her back as I helped her to the exit.

"Maybe you don't like horror and slashers as much as you think after all, eh?" said Jules cheerfully.

McKayla glowered. "I didn't even see the movie," she said in a hoarse voice. "I started feeling sick before we even sat down."

"You should have said something," I said as I moved to push open the door.

"I just thought it was nerves," she said, swaying slightly. She put a hand to her mouth again and coughed, though thankfully didn't throw up.

"Hold on a second," Jules said. She dashed back to the concession stand. She talked to the guy at the counter for a minute, gesturing back at us. A moment later she returned with an empty popcorn bucket. At the incredulous look we gave her, she explained, "The smell of vomit in a car is like skunk. It _never_ comes out."

I sighed as I helped McKayla into the back seat of the car, and she took the popcorn bucket, bending over it and coughing several times. She sucked in a deep breath of the cool night air, and as that seemed to help, we rolled down the windows.

I shivered in the chill air curling into the truck, and pulled my jacket in a little bit closer.

"Cold?" she asked as we sped down the highway back to Forks.

"A little," I said, shivering again, though it was an understatement. I looked over at her, in her light jacket and T-shirt. "You're not?"

She shrugged. "No, it kind of feels good to me." She grinned and reached over and grabbed my hand playfully. "Wow, you really are cold. You're like an ice block."

"Maybe you just have a fever or something," I grumbled. "Or you're a freak of nature."

She laughed. "There's always that possibility."

However, as I felt her hand around mine, I couldn't help but notice that it did feel unnaturally warm. Without thinking, I reached over and touched her forehead.

"Hey," she protested, ducking away from me. "That's freezing."

"You're burning up," I said, a little alarmed. "Seriously burning up, Jules—are you okay?"

She shrugged again. "I feel fine. I think you're just cold."

I nodded, and settled back down. Maybe she was right.

I stared out the window as we went, and McKayla emptied the contents of her stomach into the popcorn bucket. My thoughts churned, going over my conversation with Jules at the theater. A friend like her was so much more than what I deserved. It wasn't really fair what I was doing. I kept telling her the truth, but maybe that was worse than telling a lie, and breaking things off before she got seriously hurt. She knew I was broken, but the problem was that she still suffered under the delusion that I could be fixed. She thought she could fix me, and she couldn't. Maybe she could polish up the outside, even scavenge a few parts from the dump and get bits and pieces of me going again. But she'd never find a master cylinder, she'd never get me running properly again. And letting her think she might just to keep her near—I should lose all the man points in the world.

I knew what I should do, but I knew I wouldn't. I knew I wouldn't say or do anything to make the break. Because there was something wrong with me, and I couldn't do what was best for her, because I needed her too much.

I drove McKayla back to her house in her Suburban, and Jules followed along behind in her car to take me back.

Jules was unusually quiet as we drove back to my house. I began to wonder if she was thinking about our conversation too, and beginning to rethink her declaration.

"Well," she said as she pulled her car up next to my truck. "We're kind of early, so normally I'd say we should do something. But...I don't know, maybe you were right about the fever. I'm starting to feel kind of weird."

"Hey," I said, grabbing her arm. "You want me to drive you home?"

She shook her head, brow clouded. "No, it's okay. I don't feel sick exactly, at least not yet. I just feel kind of...off. And I can pull over if I have to."

"Are you sure?" I said. "I can drive you, no problem. It would make me feel better."

She smiled a little, though her eyes were still a little distracted. "Then I'd have to leave the Rabbit here overnight. She's still too young to be away from her mother for very long."

"Okay," I said, the edge of anxiety still in my voice. "Call me as soon as you get there."

"Sure, sure," she said.

I opened my door to get out, but she reached over and took my wrist. Once again, her skin seemed to burn against mine.

"Yeah?" I said. "Do you want me to drive you after all?"

Her brow was furrowed, and her eyes flickered downward. "I...I want you to know something, Beau," she said.

I felt suddenly nervous again, and from her tone, I guessed this was going to be more of the same from the theater. "Yeah?" I said cautiously.

"I know, Beau..." she said slowly. "I know how down you feel so much of the time, and maybe I can't always help, but—thanks again for answering me honestly. Let's make a promise—we won't ever lie to each other. That doesn't mean we have to talk about everything, but...we'll be honest when it counts. You can feel free to be honest with me, Beau, because—because I'll always have your back. I won't ever do anything to hurt you, Beau. I won't ever let you down."

I looked back at her. I knew what I should probably do, before this could go any further. I should start to erect a wall between us, little by little, ween her from the desire to be around me. Until the fact that I was broken and could never give her what she hoped for couldn't hurt her. I should lie until I pushed her away, and save her from pouring all her warmth and light down this empty, bottomless pit. But I couldn't. I knew she wouldn't let me down—I was the one. I was the one who would let her down. And still I couldn't stop myself from doing it.

"Yeah, Jules," I said, smiling, though I was sure the desperation crept into my voice. "I know. I already count on you more than you know."

Her smile lit her entire face, but then there was a flicker, a frown and a touch of confusion. "I...really think I better get home," she said.

I got out quickly. "Don't forget to call me," I said, then shut the door.

I watched her pull out of the driveway and speed back down the road. I found myself thinking about what she had said, about my not using the _You're like a sister_ line. Now that I thought about it, that would have been the perfect solution. Then I could continue to do what I was doing now without guilt, without feeling like I was rushing toward an inevitable train wreck. Without feeling like I was using her.

There were a few things I knew—I hadn't meant to open myself up again, to love someone, even if it wasn't the same kind of love. Love made you vulnerable, it made you breakable, so much more than being a weak human in a world of vampires ever did. I'd been broken, and now my chest would no longer hold the kind of love it did before. I didn't want to end up hurting Jules the way I had been, when she realized I couldn't be put back together. Yet I realized now that love didn't just have the power to break you, it could also twist you, make you into something ugly. And I knew that between driving Jules away, saving her that pain, and keeping her with me, letting her try to change that which would never change—my kind of love would send us both spiraling down into hell.

I went inside, kicking off my shoes on the way and went straight to the phone.

"Movie over already?" Charlie called with some surprise. He was in his usual place in front of the television, though he was sitting on the floor to be closer. Maybe it was a really good game.

"McKayla got sick partway through," I said. "Some kind of stomach flu. Probably the same thing Allen got, he wasn't able to come."

Charlie eyed me. "How about you?" he asked. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," I said, though it did occur to me that I had been exposed now.

I leaned against the kitchen counter, drumming my fingers against the cool surface. I berated myself for not making her let me drive her home.

The minutes ticked by. At fifteen, I was gripping my hands tightly together. I usually took fifteen minutes to drive down there, and Jules almost always drove faster than I did. At eighteen minutes, I picked up the phone and dialed the Blacks' place.

The ringing seemed to last an eternity. Maybe Bonnie had already gone to bed. Or maybe I'd hit the wrong number by accident. I tried again.

On the eighth ring, Bonnie finally answered.

"Hello?" she said cautiously. Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought her tone was a little off.

"Bonnie, it's Beau. Did Jules make it there okay? She left here about twenty minutes ago."

"She's here," Bonnie answered, and her voice was flat.

Bonnie, like Charlie, had always been very encouraging where Jules and my friendship was concerned, so her tone of voice now threw me a little.

"She seemed like she wasn't feeling well when she left, so I told her to call me when she got in," I said, trying to explain myself.

Bonnie still sounded distant and distracted as she said, "She's...pretty sick. She couldn't call."

I knew if Jules was that bad off, I should probably let Bonnie get back to taking care of her.

However, I thought of Bonnie stuck in her wheelchair, and said, "Hey, if you need any help doing anything, I can come down there. I can come down right now."

"No," Bonnie said sharply. Then, as though making the effort to make her voice sound more relaxed, she said, "I mean no. Thank you, Beau, but we'll be fine. Jules has been sick before and we've always managed. Stay there."

In spite of her effort, there was still an edge in her voice, and it sounded almost like a command.

"Well...okay..." I said uncertainly.

"Bye, Beau," Bonnie said shortly, then I heard the line click.

"Bye," I muttered.

I set down the receiver. Jules had apparently made it back okay, but for some reason I couldn't explain, I was still antsy. I felt restless and agitated as I made my way up the stairs to my room and threw myself down on my bed. Maybe I'd drop by over there tomorrow, just to see how she was doing. She probably had the flu, same as McKayla and Allen had, so maybe I could stop by the drug store and grab some anti-fever and anti-nausea pills, though probably she would just have to let it pass.

However, I realized my plans wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon as I woke up four-thirty in the morning and had to dash to the bathroom across the hall to throw up everything I had eaten the night before. I knew it was probably pointless to blame McKayla, but I did anyway.

Charlie pronounced the diagnosis when he found me laying on the bathroom floor a half hour later. "Stomach flu," he said.

I only groaned in response.

Charlie was always out of his element when it came to caring for invalids, and he said uncertainly, "You need anything, Beau?"

"Call into work for me," I said in a strained voice. "Tell them I'm—" I had to pause to throw up into the toilet bowl. "—Sick."

"Sure, I'll tell them," Charlie said, looking eager to be away as fast as possible.

I spent the rest of the day laying on the bathroom floor, head on a crumpled up towel. Charlie had to go to work, and he left a glass of water on the floor next to me so I could keep myself hydrated. At some point I drifted off to sleep, and I didn't wake up until I heard the door slam downstairs when Charlie got back home. He came straight up the stairs to check to see how I was doing.

"Everything all right?" he said. "Feeling better at all?"

I felt like it was better not to answer that question as I sat up and leaned over the toilet again, not sure if I was feeling another attack coming on.

Charlie stood uncertainly there a minute, then said, "Do you want anything?"

I wordlessly shook my head.

Charlie shifted awkwardly a minute more, before he said, "All right, then." He clumped back downstairs.

We got a phone call later, and I found out McKayla was feeling better. I hoped that meant the end was in sight. Then again, McKayla had gotten the bug a full eight hours before I had, so I still had a long ways to go.

I finally was able to get back to sleep on my towel again, and when I woke I thought I felt a little better. I looked up and, seeing pale light streaming in through the tinted bathroom window, figured it was probably morning.

I looked down and noticed a couple more towels had been folded up beneath my head for more support, and someone had draped an old hunting blanket over me. Charlie must have been in.

I still felt a bit shaky and weak, and the taste of vomit still coated the inside of my mouth, but as I got slowly to my feet, leaning heavily against the bathroom counter, I didn't feel nauseated. It had been over twenty-four hours since I'd come down with bug, so maybe I was done.

I waited an hour or two, having a light breakfast, and moving like a sloth around the house, until I was pretty sure it wasn't going to come back, then I headed to the phone.

This time, it was Jules who answered the phone, but her voice had such a rough, grating quality to it I almost didn't recognize it at first.

"...Hello?"

"Hey, Jules," I said, the words coming out as a sigh. "How are you feeling?"

There was silence on the other end for a moment, then she said dully, in a voice like sandpaper, "I feel...horrible."

"I'm sorry, this is my fault. You probably got it from McKayla when we went to the movie. I got it, too, but I'm feeling better now."

"You were sick?" she said vaguely.

"Yeah, but it's just a twenty-four hour bug. I'm sure you'll be over it in a few hours. Sorry, it's my fault."

"Don't...apologize," she said, and her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm happy...I'm happy I went. And...I don't think I have what you had."

I don't know what it was, but something in her tone alarmed me. It sounded almost fatalistic.

"What is it?" I said. "What's wrong?"

Another pause. "I...I just hurt. Everything, every part of me, inside and out. I've never felt like this before."

"Hey," I said. "What do you need me to do? I can come down and stay with you and get things for you. I know Bonnie has trouble getting around."

"No," she said, and though her voice was still hoarse, her tone had a sudden severity, not unlike Bonnie's the other night. "No...you can't come here."

"I've already been exposed to whatever you have," I argued. "It won't make a difference."

"Listen, Beau," she said. "I'll call you again when I get the chance. I'll tell you when you can come down. Until then, don't do anything."

"Jules—"

"I've got to go," she whispered, suddenly urgent.

"Okay," I said, though all I wanted was to keep her on the line—as long as I could hear her voice, I knew she was still okay. "Get some rest. Call me when you feel better."

She gave a harsh, almost bitter chuckle, and again it scraped against my eardrums like gravel on a chalkboard. "Right."

I was silent, waiting for her to hang up, but she didn't, and didn't say anything.

At last I said, "Hope to see you before long. Feel better soon."

"Wait for me to call," she repeated.

"I will...See you, Jules."

She let out a single broken breath like a sigh, and I heard her breathe my name. Then she hung up.

* * *

A/N: Ah, McKayla, Beau...I feel for you.

Thanks again for all your wonderful comments last chapter, and if you have a moment, let me know what you thought! See you next time~

Posted 2/23/16


	11. The Meadow

A/N: Haha! I'm back! And I'm feeling much better, thank you all so much for your kind thoughts... (I did make sure to drink a lot of water and Gatorade to keep myself hydrated, as much as possible. The latest theory now is that it was food poisoning, though we're still not sure.)

Reading over this chapter, I was a bit worried about it...I think when I was originally writing the rough draft a while back, it felt like I might have been rushing it a bit. (Plus there was a logistics issue I was trying to solve, which I'll talk some more about at the end.) But I did quite a bit of editing, so I did my best to work some of that out.

Thanks so much for reading, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 10: The Meadow

Jules didn't call.

Unable to quite curb my impatience and growing anxiety, I called the Black house again the next day after school, and Bonnie answered to tell me that Jules was still bed-ridden, and needed rest. When I pressed her, she said that she had taken Jules in to see a doctor, but there was something in Bonnie's tone that, for some reason, made me not entirely sure I believed her. For the next several days, I called repeatedly, before school, and multiple times over the course of each afternoon, but no one answered.

By the time Saturday arrived I simply couldn't take anymore, and I leaped in my truck to head over to La Push, even though Jules hadn't given me the okay. However, I arrived to find the house empty. It struck me that whatever Jules had come down with, maybe it was serious enough Bonnie had had to take her to the hospital. I made a run over there next, but when I spoke to the staff member manning the front desk he told me neither Jules nor Bonnie had been in.

I knew I was acting at best like an overzealous nanny, at worst a stalker, but I couldn't sit still until I saw her, and made sure she was okay. Her tone of voice when I'd last spoken to her kept going through my mind, and I couldn't quite suppress the sense that something was seriously wrong.

"Hey, Dad," I said as Charlie came in the door, just off work. I was at the stove, working on a fish stir fry.

"Hey, kid," he answered as he clumped in through the hall.

I called, trying to make my voice casual, "Hey, Dad, um, do you think you could do me a favor?"

Something in my voice must have sounded off, because he came and poked his head around the corner, eying me warily. "Favor?"

I kept my eyes on the stir-fry. "Jules seemed pretty sick when I saw her last Friday. I've been trying to find out how she's doing, but I haven't seen her." I shrugged. "You know a lot of people down at La Push...I don't know if you could call someone and find out anything. One of the Clearwaters, maybe..."

Charlie stared at me, mystified. "If you want to find out how she's doing, why don't you just call Bonnie?"

Again I concentrated hard on the stir fry in front of me, tossing the contents up and flipping them over with a spatula. "I tried, but they don't answer, and they didn't go to the hospital. They weren't at the house either, when I went down there. Maybe they've gone to stay with someone for awhile, you know, while Jules needs to be taken care of."

"Well...all right," Charlie said slowly. "I'm sure she's just fine, these things go around. But I'll see what Saul or Holly have to say if it'll make you feel better." He went back to take off his gun belt and jacket, then headed for the phone.

Charlie greeted Saul Clearwater. However, he didn't mention Jules right away, and instead they exchanged pleasantries and general updates for a minute. Apparently Holly Clearwater had been in the hospital a short while ago, having had a bit of a health scare, a heart murmur. She wasn't making a bit deal out of it, but Saul was worried, and Charlie seemed equally concerned at the news. When Charlie finally got around to asking about the Blacks and Jules, I listened hard, but I couldn't make out the response.

When Charlie finally finished and hung up, he looked a little distracted, probably still worried about Holly Clearwater. He'd been friends with both the Clearwaters forever.

I'd been standing right beside him, arms folded the entire time. Finally I prompted, "Jules?"

Charlie shook his head. "Apparently there's been some trouble with the phone lines, which is why your calls haven't been getting through. Bonnie took her to a doctor down there on the reservation, and seems she's come down with mono. She's pretty tired, and Bonnie's not letting her have any visitors."

"But they'll make an exception for me," I said. I sounded like a pushy mid-level employee, trying to make myself out to be a big shot.

Charlie gave me a look. "No visitors," he repeated. "That's what Bonnie said. I better not hear you're down there making a nuisance of yourself. I mean it, Beau. Let them alone, Bonnie knows what's best for Julie. That girl will be up and about again before long, just wait it out."

I wanted to argue, but I didn't see the point. Charlie wasn't the one I had to convince. So I just nodded, and turned for the stairs.

I got to my room, and went straight to the ancient computer on my desk. After a tedious ten minutes of waiting for the thing to wheeze to life, I did a search online on mono. However, none of the symptoms seemed to fit—the fever, maybe, but Jules hadn't mentioned anything about a sore throat, exhaustion, or headaches. In fact, she'd acted like she felt pretty good. With classic mono, it seemed it usually it snuck up on you gradually, the aches and pains coming first, followed later on by other symptoms.

I wondered why I was double-checking Bonnie's story. I just couldn't push away the feeling that something was off—but maybe it was just the prospect of being separated for a long time, and I was grabbing at any excuse to break the ban.

I scrolled down through the article. Apparently someone with mono needed to avoid physical activity as much as possible, but I couldn't find anything about keeping them in quarantine. It wasn't a particularly infectious bug—the most common way it was spread was through saliva, which was why it was generally known as a kissing disease. Maybe Bonnie was worried about that.

As my eyes flickered over the general duration of the sickness, I nearly choked. Mono apparently could last for months on end—Bonnie couldn't really keep us apart that long, could she?

I decided I would give it a week. If, by next Saturday, Jules still hadn't called, then neither Bonnie nor anybody else would stand in my way of going to see her with my own two eyes. One week—that was generous.

* * *

As we'd already been almost a week apart since my bout of flu last weekend, I didn't expect the promise to be such a hard one to keep. I'd found ways to keep busy through the week, anticipating the things we would do when we were reunited, so I was mostly okay except for the nightmares. The fact I couldn't get a hold of her by phone troubled me, and I was worried about her, but for myself, those few days away from the girl I was, embarrassingly, starting to secretly think of like my personal sun, weren't as hard as I might have expected.

Week two was a completely different story.

It seemed to me that, if Jules's presence had been like morphine to me all this time, then apparently all the months of spending time together had simply let it seep into my system so deeply that it had been enough to linger, lasting me a few extra days even when I was cut off from the source. Now any last vestiges of the drug that had still be permeating my system had completely dried up, and after the months of our continuously being together, I was in massive withdrawal.

Sunday was long. The minutes crawled by like hours, and the hours were like days. Monday at school was worse. By Wednesday, I was sure I was going to lose my mind long before Saturday arrived.

I began to realize that, when I'd made that promise to myself to wait a week, I hadn't really believed that Jules would actually listen to Bonnie's edict, at least not for that long. I was sure she'd find a way to see me, or at least call to talk to me, or even if her throat was so bad she couldn't talk, at least listen to me talk to her. But as every day before school and after school I rushed into the kitchen to check the message machine, there was nothing.

I didn't quite keep my bargain with myself to leave well enough alone until Saturday, and tried calling her house again more than once, but apparently the lines were still down.

I knew I was acting pathetic, and I was aware of Charlie quietly observing me with some concern as he watched me restlessly pace about the house, and keep circling back to the phone again and again. But I was completely beyond caring how I might look to other people. I'd been stuck in the house alone way too much lately, not helped by the fact that the Newtons had given me both last week and this week off to make sure I was completely recovered from my case of stomach flu before I went back to work—likely they didn't want me infecting customers—and having nothing to do to keep my head on other things, the all-consuming, mind-numbing pain of a few months ago was starting to creep back in.

I'd long since been keeping a bucket next to my bed, in case I wasn't fast enough to make it to the bathroom as I reached that point in my nightmares where I woke up and I had to retch. But now without the days and afternoons with Jules to look forward to—laughing doing homework, hiking out in the forest, riding our bikes—I began to live in dread the coming of nights, just like before. The coming of the nothingness. The sense of hope, the feeling that it would end, faded, and once again there was nothing to pull me through. Samantha crept back into my dreams, too, but she was just a shadowy figure, watching my pain from behind cool, unpitying eyes, and I paid her no mind. The ripping pain of the ragged hole in my chest didn't abate.

When I started awake from my latest nightmare, falling to my knees on the floor and filling the old tin bucket Charlie had gotten for me with a watery, milky white substance, I remembered that it was Saturday, and I was so relieved I could have cried.

My self-inflicted jail time was up, and I was going to do whatever it took to see Jules. I'd try calling her, and if I couldn't get a hold of her, which I doubted I would, then I was headed to La Push. If she wasn't home, I'd knock on every door and talk to every neighbor until I found out where she was and what was going on.

The anticipation of having a plan of action cheered me considerably as I went downstairs to the phone, and my fingers flew over the familiar number I'd hit a thousand times. I waited.

I nearly dropped the phone in surprise when Bonnie answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hey," I said, recovering. "Great, your phone's back, Saul Clearwater told us it's been down. How's Jules doing? Can she see anybody yet? I was thinking of coming over." Of course, the question was immaterial, as even if Bonnie refused, I was going to go down anyway. I'd knock down the door if I had to.

Bonnie seemed to hesitate. "Yes...Yes, she's better. Turned out it wasn't mono after all, just a bug. She's over it now. But I'm afraid she's not in at the moment."

It took me a second to process that. "Oh...that's...that's great," I managed. "So...where is she?"

"She's giving some friends a ride up to Port Angeles—she said something about catching a double-feature there. She'll be out the rest of the day."

I was silent. I had no clue what to say. "Well," I said at last. "Well, it's good to know she's feeling better. I've been kind of worried."

"Do you have a message you'd like me to pass along for you?" Bonnie asked politely.

"No..." I said. "No, I...no. That's okay."

"I'll tell her that you called," Bonnie told me. "See you later, Beau."

"See you," I answered, but she'd already hung up. Maybe it was just as well—my voice had cracked on the last word.

I set down the receiver and leaned against the counter, my legs suddenly weak.

So, Jules was feeling better. Good enough to drive out to Port Angeles with friends. But she hadn't called. Not to tell me it was okay to come see her, not just to talk...not even to tell me she _was_ better. That didn't seem like her. But then again...

My hands folded together, my fingers kneading the skin with growing agitation.

Jules was my best friend. I'd thought she'd seen me the same way, and I'd expected she'd hate having an entire two weeks apart almost as much as I did. But was it possible I'd just completely misjudged? Jules obviously wasn't in the middle of some kind of severe depression, and maybe it was possible, even likely, that she didn't view our friendship at all the same way I did. Her presence was like the sun to me, the air—But maybe I was just some guy to kill time with. One friend among many. Or maybe, even worse, being away from me had just given her a little perspective—maybe she'd come to realize how needy I was, and that the best thing to do was to try to get away from me before I sucked the life out of her.

I shook my head, trying to get a grip. I was overreacting. She probably just hadn't realized how big a deal being apart for a week or two was for me, and she was so happy to be feeling better that calling me had just slipped her mind. Or maybe something big had happened, like she'd finally made up with Emma and gotten her away from Sam, and she was so ecstatic they'd gone and made plans, just like old times.

At this possibility, I hesitated. A feeling I couldn't quite define flickered at the back of my mind.

That would definitely be a good thing, if that were true. Jules had been worried about Emma, so if it was all somehow resolved, I could only imagine how happy she would be. Yet even as I knew the possibility ought to make me glad, relieved, instead I felt my stomach tighten with nerves as a new thought occurred to me.

Was the reason Jules had been hanging out with me so much lately because of the thing with Emma? Had I just been lucky enough to catch her at a time when she had extra time available, time to fill that she'd normally have spent with her usual friends? If so, if she _had_ made up with Emma...what would happen to the time she had been spending with me?

I forced myself to stop that thought where it was. The day I started resenting Jules having other friends was the day I deserved to have her shut the door of friendship in my face and be left out in the cold. The only thing Jules deserved from me was gratitude, for everything she had done already. She owed me nothing.

I leaned heavily against the counter, and my head suddenly felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds. It all spun sickening in my mind—the terror of the nightmares and the fear that I would lose Jules as the one thing that could briefly make it go away, the overwhelming knowledge that I had no hold on her, and the guilt for wanting to, for acting like a jerk. The empty day with nothing but an empty house and these thoughts for company loomed ahead of me, and I could barely breathe.

"Something wrong?"

Charlie had just appeared at the foot of the stairs behind me, and he must have taken in the slump of my shoulders, where I was still standing next to the phone.

I forced myself to stand up a little straighter and shook my head. "No, I was just calling the Black house. Bonnie says Jules is feeling better. It wasn't mono after all."

"Is she coming here, or are you going there?" Charlie asked absently, as he opened the fridge and began rummaging through it.

"Not today," I said, doing my best to make my voice light. "She's out with some other friends right now. Maybe another time."

Something must have been very wrong in my tone, because he stopped abruptly and looked around at me sharply. His hand had frozen around a package of cheese slices as he took in my expression, and a flash of alarm crossed his face.

"Lunch already?" I said, still trying to sound casual. "Didn't we just have breakfast?"

His eyes didn't move from my face. "No..." he said vaguely. "No, I was just packing something to take out to the river. The Clearwaters called, and since it's not raining..." He hesitated uncertainly, still clutching the package of cheese slices. He said suddenly, very quickly, "But I can stay here, if you'd like. You and I could do something."

Normally I might have chuckled at the idea of Charlie and I doing some kind of father-and-son thing. As near as I could tell, we didn't have a single shared interest. But I couldn't even make myself crack a smile.

"That's okay, Dad," I said, looking away. "I know the fish bite better when the weather's nice." I added, "I think I'll call one or two of the guys from school. Jeremy, maybe. I was thinking we could do something."

Charlie seemed to latch onto this. "That's a good idea. You've been spending so much time with Julie, your other friends will start to think you've forgotten them."

I nodded. I preferred Charlie to go fishing as opposed to staying here, awkwardly hovering about and watching me to see if I was slipping back into my zombie-state, and he would feel better if he thought I wasn't alone. Though in fact I had no intention of calling Jeremy to do anything—I wasn't entirely sure we were even friends anymore, he and Logan seemed to have formed some kind of pact against me. And even if we were, Jeremy's presence wasn't likely to do anything to cheer me up when I was feeling like this.

Charlie started for the door, but then paused, turning back a minute. "Hey, if you do go out somewhere, you boys will stay in town, won't you? No hiking?"

It seemed a strange, random question. "No...why?"

He shrugged. "I told you before, I'd like you to keep out of the woods for the time being. We've been having more sightings of that bear, and a hiker went missing this morning. Just up and vanished from his campsite, and there were big animal prints nearby. Just promise me to be careful—Be smart."

I nodded absently, though I was only half listening. My head was still miles away, bowed with the weight of all my thoughts.

I listened to the sound of the police cruiser pull out of the drive, and continued to listen to the distant sound of the engine as it headed off down the road until it faded, and all was still. I stood there by the counter, listening to the sudden deafening silence, and the overpowering sound of my churning thoughts, staring at the empty kitchen, and contemplating the prospect of the rest of the day here. And all at once I realized I just couldn't do it.

I abruptly strode down the hall to the coat rack and seized my jacket, trying to think of something, anything, to do that would get me through the day—just one day.

Going out with friends from school was out. The last thing I needed right now was to be forced to exert more mental energy putting up a good-humored front. I might not have minded doing something with Allen, but I figured on a Saturday he was probably out with Becca. Besides, Allen was observant, and I knew he would immediately pick up on how I was feeling. I could also go get my bike out at La Push and go for a ride—unfortunately, I still wasn't so good at the bike that I could guarantee I wouldn't cut my head open again, and if that happened, I wouldn't have anyone to drive me to the emergency room.

My thoughts seized upon my search for the little secluded meadow in the woods. I had the compass and map in my truck, and I knew the process now well enough that maybe I could get a couple of lines done on my own.

I'd told Charlie I wouldn't go out hiking in the woods, but apparently I'd lied. At the moment, I was too desperate to be out of the house to feel guilty—the need to distract myself from all the anxiety and crushing depression seemed more pressing than worry over some mega-bear.

The weather was fairly nice that day, cloudy, but dry, and not too cold. However, as I stepped into the forest—of course taking far longer than Jules to find the right place to follow the next unexplored line on the map—the trees seemed to close around me, enveloping me in the shadow of their limbs.

Even though the forest was full of life—chirping birds, buzzing insects, rustling leaves—it felt somehow darker, creepier than it had before when Jules was walking in front of me, whistling and telling stories. It was a different place—it almost felt like the scene from my nightmare.

At first my sense of unease grew stronger, and the hole in my chest pricked at me. But eventually my breathing evened out, and the rhythmic sound of my own footsteps became a comfort. Before long I was moving better, going faster, even as I had to climb over tree roots and brush aside shrubs.

I was so lost in the soft tramping of my feet along the forest floor, the sound of twigs and sticks quietly snapping beneath my sneakers, that at some point I lost track of the time, or how far I had gone. I just kept on walking, just listening to the sounds of the forest around me, thinking of nothing in particular. So, when I stepped through a low arch made by a pair of vine maples, shoving past chest-high ferns, I was stunned when I abruptly found myself there.

I would know the place anywhere—this was _our_ place, which, once upon a time, I had often revisited in my mind. The unusual symmetry, like someone had gone through and intentionally cleared away the trees, was unmistakable.

Without the sunlight, the place wasn't nearly so stunning as it had been that day, but it was still a beautiful place, all the more beautiful for its peaceful tranquility. It was the wrong season for wildflowers, but emerald green grass swayed in the light breeze, soft as cotton.

I stared out at the magical place I had been, and I immediately knew—it had been a mistake to come here.

I staggered back against a tree as a sharp pain cut through my chest. I gripped the front of my shirt. This place I'd been searching for—it was empty. A once magical place that was now a place of nothingness, just like my nightmares.

I lifted my eyes again to the green grass, gritting my teeth against the pain—and that was when I saw it.

Something moved at the very north of the clearing. I squinted, and very suddenly a figure stepped out of the trees into view.

I stared in confusion for a moment. A hiker? But this was so far from any of the trails...Then my brain took in the odd stillness of the figure, the pallid skin, and I knew what it was that stood before me. But it wasn't her. Not the one I would have wanted to see.

For a moment all the pain was driven from my mind, replaced by a spasm of fear. Then my eyes took in the face, and I was stunned to realize I recognized it.

"Lauren?" I said, startled. Then, strangely, I felt a smile spread slowly across my face.

Lauren had been part of Joss's coven when we met. She had opted not to join in Joss's crazed hunt for me, and instead gone on to Alaska, to stay with the other civilized coven there, another group of vampires who also abstained from human blood. Although Lauren had never shied away from a natural vampire diet before, I'd figured staying with that other family she would have had to adopt their ways.

Still, I probably should have been afraid. Alone in the wilderness with a vampire who, up until recently, had had no qualms about eating humans. But I felt strangely elated. In a weird way, Lauren's presence in the meadow restored its magic, reconnected me with the memories that kept threatening to slip away, to dissolve into nothingness. Even if it was a darker magic than the one I remembered, she grounded what sometimes seemed to be nothing more than a fantasy in reality. _She_ did exist, after all.

Lauren looked the same as I remembered. In fact, she seemed almost unnaturally the same—Perhaps it was just my humanness showing that I would have expected to see some change, however minute, in her appearance since I'd last seen her nearly a year ago. However, there was something needling me. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"It's you," said Lauren with surprise as she took me in, standing there. "The human. Beau Swan, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, and I felt my smile widen. She knew me, knew my name. The events that had happened back then were real, not some figment of my imagination.

"I wouldn't have expected to see you here," she said, eying me curiously. She approached slowly, with casual, easy grace, her long, silk black hair rippling in the light breeze.

I shrugged. "I live here. What about you? Last I heard, you were in Alaska."

Lauren paused, stopping barely ten paces from me. She tilted her head to one side. Like all vampires, her face was shockingly beautiful, the most beautiful face I'd seen in what felt like an eternity. Even if it paled in comparison to the beauty I _had_ seen, I couldn't stop myself taking in her every detail. It was such a release, to meet someone who knew everything, who was in on the secret I'd carried all this time. To meet with someone again from _her_ world, even if it wasn't a world for me.

"Yes, I did," she said. "It was nice there, in Alaska. Still, I didn't think for a minute you would still...well, when I found the Cullen place empty, I was certain they must have moved on."

I didn't answer. The sound of the name pierced my chest again, constricting my lungs and I had to take a second to gather myself again. Lauren watched me curiously.

"Yeah," I said at last. "They moved on."

She nodded slowly. "Yes...I thought so. But I must say, I am surprised they left you behind. Weren't you sort of a pet of theirs?"

The cold knife already in chest sank an inch deeper, and I had to wait a minute before my voice was under control enough to answer. "Something...something like that."

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully.

Something in her tone made me look up—and as my eyes met hers, my stomach plunged, and suddenly I knew what had been bothering me a moment ago. Lauren looked the same as the last time I'd seen her—too much the same. When I'd heard Lauren went to stay with Tanvir's family, I'd grown to picture her with the same golden eyes the other vampires I'd known had. The golden eyes that reflected their mutual life choice. But as I stared into her dark eyes now, I saw the truth.

I took a slow step back, and Lauren's eyes followed my movement. Eyes the color of blood.

"Do they visit often?" she asked, still casual, though I watched as her weight shifted ever so slightly toward me.

" _Lie,"_ the familiar voice commanded from the back of my mind.

"Now and then," I said, casually stretching out my arms, as if I were perfectly relaxed. "It probably seems longer to me, you know how they get distracted..."

"Hmm," said Lauren again. "The house smelled like it had been vacant for a while."

" _You have to lie better than that, Beau,"_ the voice pressed, with growing fear.

I did my best. "Hey, I'll let Carine know you stopped by. She'll hate that she missed you." I stopped, pretending to think. "Don't worry, I won't mention it to—to Edythe—" my voice cracked on the name "—She still gets touchy about the whole Joss thing. I told her to let that be water under the bridge, but you know how she gets when she's pissed off..."

I shrugged my shoulders, nonchalant _._ However, my voice was just a little too high.

"I see," said Lauren pleasantly. "Is that so." Her slightly narrowed eyes studied my face.

I tried to shrug again, but it was little more than a jerky twitch. "Yeah," I said. My voice cracked.

Lauren took a casual step to the side, and I noticed she was another pace closer to me. The voice in my head snarled.

"So," I said, swallowing as I tried to force my voice down to a normal level. "So—how has it been going in Denali? What do you think of Tanvir and the others?"

Lauren paused. "I do like Tanvir," she said. "And his brother, Ivan...It's a bit of a novelty, really, staying in one place. Far more pleasant than I expected. But even so, the _restrictions_. They are impossible. I don't know how a single one of them has managed it for this long." She smiled at me conspiratorially. "I admit, sometimes I cheat."

Something had lodged itself in my throat. I could barely breathe. I felt my foot start to take a step back, but I froze as Lauren's sharp eyes flickered down to catch the movement.

" _Don't move,"_ the voice whispered. I stayed still, but it was hard. Every part of me wanted to turn and run.

Lauren lazily took another a step forward.

Desperate for any way to distract her, delay her, I blurted the first question that came to mind. "Did you ever meet up with Victor again?" I grimaced as soon as the words were out. That was the last thing I should be asking right now—Victor was Joss's mate, and he had helped her track me, disappearing after she was killed.

However, Lauren did stop, thoughtful.

"Yes," she said musingly. "In fact, I came out here as a favor to him." She sighed deeply and shook her head. "Ah, Victor. He certainly won't be happy about this."

"About...what?" I was eager for anything to keep the conversation going, and yet I dreaded the answer.

Lauren raised her dark crimson eyes to me, and her face lit up with a sudden smile. The expression made her look like a raven-haired angel.

"About killing you," she said brightly.

I was frozen. I wanted to take a step back, but I couldn't move.

Lauren continued dispassionately, "You see, he wanted to kill you himself. Tear you apart piece by painful piece. Oh, I know what you're thinking. What did _you_ ever do to Victor? It's like this—Joss was Victor's mate. Your little Edythe killed Joss. Now, in Victor's twisted mind, the only way to pay her back is to kill _her_ mate—Ie, you."

Even standing on the point of death, the sound of the name was like a firebrand in my chest, searing, painful.

Lauren continued, oblivious to my reaction, "Victor wanted me to get the lay of the land around here before he made his move. Honestly, I don't think he would have expected to find you so easy to get to. I'm afraid dear Victor's grand plot for revenge isn't quite what he imagined it would be. If she really considered _you_ hermate, I very much doubt she would have just left you here like this. Exposed, without the least defense."

Lauren's weight shifted slightly again, toward me. However, again she sighed. "I suppose he will be angry, all the same. He so hates to be thwarted, Victor. I suppose that's why he and Joss made such a good team—they were both a bit mad, if you ask me."

"So wait," I said, desperation and fear warring with the sharp pain Lauren's words had sent shooting through my hollow chest. "Why don't you just wait for him?"

"I could," she said, cocking her head to one side. Then her lips curled into a smile. "But I'm afraid I don't have the will at the moment. I was just out hunting, you see—I haven't had a good meal in some time, since I've been out doing Victor's dirty work. And I must admit that you smell...simply scrumptious."

She looked at me with approval, as though paying me a compliment.

" _Threaten her,"_ the beautiful voice ordered, distorted with dread.

"You won't get away with this," I said. "She'll know it was you."

"Will she?" said Lauren, her dark red eyes glittering. "The scent will wash away with the next rain. No one will find your body—you'll simply go missing, like so many, many other humans. Why should Edythe think of me? If she even cares enough to look into it. I promise, it's nothing personal. I just need something to slake my thirst."

"She'll know," I insisted. "She'll see your mind the next time you see her. And even if—even if she doesn't care—you know she'll take it personally. She'll see it as a challenge."

Lauren smiled, taking another step forward. "I'll just have to make certain I don't run into her, then. And you'd be surprised how easy it is to control one's thoughts with practice."

" _Beg,"_ my hallucination whispered.

I bent my head in a submissive posture. "Please," I said. "You don't want to do this."

Lauren shook her head, and her beautiful face was oddly gentle. "If you look at it a certain way, Beau, I'm really doing you a favor. I'll be quick, I promise. You won't feel a thing. I'll have to lie to Victor about that later, of course—If you had any idea what he plans to do to you if he gets a hold of you...Well, let's just say, in retrospect, I think he thinks that Joss was a little too gentle with you. Be happy you fell into my hands instead."

My heart was hammering in my chest, and a trickle of sweat slid down my temple.

Lauren leaned forward, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, breathing in my scent. "Exquisite," she murmured. "Mouthwatering."

I knew what was about to come. I was about to die.

And, knowing that it was over, knowing that it was all about to end, I let it through—the name I hadn't let myself think or speak, for the pain it brought. _Edythe,_ I thought. _Edythe. Edythe. Edythe._

"You won't feel a thing," Lauren murmured again.

I looked into her eyes, and saw the hunger there, the greedy longing for my blood. I heard the scream in my head that I had heard in the ballet studio, as Joss sprung toward me for the final kill—the tortured, agonized sound of a chainsaw through steel. Somehow, the wild sound calmed me. I braced myself.

Her lips curled back from her teeth, eyes glinting with anticipation. But suddenly, just as she was breathing in the aroma one last time, she froze.

She turned her head sharply toward the left side of the clearing, and her face went blank with shock.

"I don't believe it," she whispered. "It can't be."

I was afraid to look away from Lauren even for a second, but irresistibly I turned my head, to see what she was looking at. At first I saw nothing, but as I focused, squinting my eyes, I realized I saw movement in the trees—and I watched as a giant black form detached itself from the woods, its giant paws making absolutely no sound on the meadow grass. Head low, the creature stalked toward the vampire.

I didn't know if I'd ever seen any animal so huge. It was big as a horse, on all fours taller than I was, with a powerful body and muscular legs. I watched numbly as the creature drew back its long snout to reveal twin rows of sharp, dagger-like teeth, and a wild snarl echoed across the meadow, sending chills up and down my spine.

Apparently the bear everyone had been seeing was real—only now that I saw it up close, I could see it wasn't a bear at all. But I could certainly see why people had made that mistake. Wolves shouldn't get that big.

The beast was less than ten feet from me and still advancing. I knew that between this beast and the vampire, the vampire was obviously the more dangerous, but something about the creature's towering size awakened in me some instinctual fear, beyond reason. And, morbid as it was, I couldn't help but remember Lauren had promised me a quick, painless death—I doubted this monster would be so accommodating.

" _Keep still, Beau,"_ Edythe's voice whispered. _"Keep very still."_

Lauren had begun to back away, toward the edge of the trees, and her eyes were wide with horror to match mine. Why? What did a vampire have to be afraid of from an animal?

I continued to watch the wolf, my stomach twisting inside me, and I could only stare, stunned, as two more mutant wolves emerged from the wood to join the first. One was a deep charcoal gray, the other brown. The gray one was feet from me, and I had stopped breathing.

Before I could even begin to think what to do, two more wolves followed, appearing on either side of the line, the black wolf still at the head. One was a deep rust brown, and it emerged from the wood right beside me, so close I could have reached out and touched it.

In spite of Edythe's warning, a gasp of shock escaped me and I staggered back. Stupid—the wolves had their eyes on Lauren now, but I was obviously the weaker, more delectable prey. An easy target. I wondered briefly if Lauren was just going to stand there and let her prey get torn to shreds. Maybe she thought it would be entertaining. Joss would have certainly thought so.

As I feared, my movement drew the attention of one of the wolves, the rust-colored one. It turned its massive head toward me. Its eyes were dark, nearly black, and I couldn't help but think there seemed to be some intelligence there, more than in a normal wild animal.

As it stared at me with its dark eyes, I suddenly found myself thinking of Jules. I was so glad I'd been on my own when I stumbled into this nightmare. Even if I was about to die here, at least she was safe. I'd thought my luck was bad when I'd found out she had gone out, when we wouldn't be together. But maybe fate had intervened on her behalf—maybe fate had decided that, even if I wasn't worthy to live, Jules was.

The black wolf let out another low growl, and the red wolf's head whipped back around, back to Lauren.

Lauren gaped at the pack with stunned shock, her eyes wide with fear. Then, without warning, she spun and bolted into the trees.

I almost couldn't believe it. Vampires were the ultimate predators. They didn't have anything to fear, except maybe each other. But she took off like the devil was on her heels.

The wolves were after her in an instant, snarling and snapping. As they disappeared from view, the wild sounds faded, until there was silence.

I was alone again.

I fell back against a tree, my hand clutching the front of my shirt. I knew I had to get out of here, before either the wolves or Lauren came back, but I was shaking all over, and I felt weak. I was probably as pale as death.

What I'd just seen didn't make any sense at all. Vampires were like stone. A pack of wolves, even a large pack of mutant monsters like those, couldn't hope to eat one, or even fight one. And why had the wolves simply bypassed me, the obviously easier prey?

A cold breeze whipped through the meadow, rustling the grass, and the noise finally galvanized me. I pushed myself back from the tree, scrambling back a few steps into the woods. Then I turned and ran.

I emerged from the trees hours later, in the wrong place—I'd been so desperate to run I hadn't followed the path I'd taken in very carefully, and almost gotten myself lost. I had to jog a mile up the road to find where I'd parked my truck. I dove inside and immediately locked all the doors. Even though it wouldn't do any good, it calmed me a little, as did the familiar blazing roar of the old engine.

By the time I finally got home, it was dark out, and Charlie's cruiser was already in the driveway. I hadn't realized how long I'd been in the forest.

"Beau?" I heard Charlie call as I came in the door. I bolted it behind me.

"Yeah," I said unsteadily. "Yeah, it's me."

He appeared in the kitchen doorway, and I could tell from his expression that I was in trouble.

"Where have you been?" he demanded.

I had a feeling he had probably called the houses of about all my friends at school, and I knew there was no lying my way out of what I'd been doing.

"Hiking," I admitted.

Charlie looked furious. "Beau, I told you specifically to say _out_ of the forest. I told you it's dangerous. I've never known you to act like this."

"Yeah, I know, it was dumb," I said quickly. "I won't go back again, I swear."

Charlie seemed to really see me for the first time. I was covered in forest debris, scratched up from head to toe from my mad scramble back through the woods. My eyes were wide and freaked out.

"What?" Charlie said. "What happened?"

I was still too shaken to come up with any good lies, and I found myself saying, "I saw—I saw the bear. But it was actually a wolf, a giant wolf. And there wasn't just one, I saw five."

Charlie's anger turned to shock. He came forward, grabbing my shoulders and looking me in the eye.

"Are you okay?" he said. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head. "I'm...okay."

He pulled me toward the couch, and got me to sit down. "Okay, tell me exactly what happened."

I still felt weak, and it took me a minute to collect my thoughts. "They didn't pay any attention to me. I waited until they were gone, and then I just...ran."

Charlie didn't ask about my scratches and bruises, he probably figured how I'd got those. As I often noted, I didn't get my grace from my mother.

Charlie was silent for a moment, then put an arm around me and pulled me into a one-armed hug.

"Wolves," he said shaking his head. "The rangers did say the tracks we've been finding are wrong for a bear—but they were so big. Too big for wolves."

"They were mutants," I said. "I swear, they were monsters. Bigger than bears."

"And you said you saw five?"

I nodded.

Charlie looked me in the eye. "Promise me, Beau. You won't go out there again."

"No problem," I said with feeling.

Charlie called the station to report what I'd seen, and when he hung up he turned back to me.

Before he could ask me anything else, I said, "I think I'm just going to head up to bed. I'm not feeling all that hungry..."

Charlie nodded. However, before he turned back for the kitchen, he suddenly frowned. "Hey, by the way, Beau...Didn't you say Bonnie said Jules went up to Port Angeles today?"

I nodded slowly, wondering where that had come from. In the course of the latest crisis, I'd almost forgotten my worries from that morning. "That's what she told me."

"Huh," he said, frowning again. "That's funny. When I went to pick up Holly and Saul, I thought I saw her hanging around down in front of the store with some friends. I waved to her, but I think she must not have seen me."

"Oh," I said, and this interested me. When I'd talked to Bonnie, she'd made it sound like Jules had already left. "Maybe they were just waiting for someone to meet them before they started out."

Charlie nodded absently. "I was a bit surprised," he said. "I've always thought Bonnie had a pretty easy going kid, but Julie seemed a bit agitated. I thought it looked like they were having some kind of argument. She looked a bit different...I think she might have cut her hair."

"Oh," I said again, not really listening as my mind worked. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe it had been premature to think Jules might have made up with Emma. Rather, maybe she had ditched out today because she'd finally made up her mind to confront Sam precisely about the situation with Em. I suddenly felt doubly guilty, for even for a moment being troubled by the thought of her making up with Emma. I really hoped she was able to sort things out—she would be so relieved when she had.

Before heading upstairs, I double-checked the locks again. It was dumb, meaningless—if Lauren came here to finish me off, locks wouldn't stop her. And they certainly wouldn't stop...

My mind flashed back to a sinuous, feline figure with blazing red hair, and I felt my stomach turn to ice.

Victor.

As I lay back on my bed, I found myself shivering violently, my stomach queasy from something other than my nightmares for once.

I was hit with the realization that just because I had escaped the clearing didn't mean that I was safe. Victor was after me, and maybe Lauren, too, if she was afraid I might tell Edythe what she had been about to do. And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it—no place to hide, no precautions I could take. There was not a soul who had the power to help me.

But what made it worse was that it wasn't just me in danger, but Charlie. My dad, sleeping in just the next room over, was in almost in as much danger as I was, simply because of his proximity to me. My scent would lead them straight here, and anything too close would become collateral damage.

To calm myself, I worked to form a picture in my mind, pretend that maybe, just maybe, the wolves had caught up to Lauren and torn her to bits, just as they would a normal person. If only Lauren were gone, then she couldn't report back to Victor that I was alone, without protection. If only...

I closed my eyes, almost eager to throw myself into my usual nightmare. Better nothingness than the cold, nasty grin of the face that was burning in my mind now. I could see his face, eyes black with thirst, his wild red hair standing up in spikes. I could see his grin grow wider, with the anticipation of what he would put me through.

A violent tremor of fear wracked my frame as I turned my face into my pillow.

* * *

A/N: If I'd checked ahead last time and seen how long this chapter was, I definitely would have made this a two-week chapter. But, I didn't want to break stride without saying anything, so I pushed myself a bit harder... x3 (Hopefully it turned out all right, but there are some things I'm still worried about...There were definitely a couple of tough bits near the beginning of that second section.) Next chapter very likely will be a two-week chapter, as it's almost as long as this one, and there are some things difficult sections that really need more time to work themselves out. Wish me luck! :J

As I threatened at the beginning, here are my over-analytical, logistical notes:

I was trying to figure out the timeline for this chapter, but I had some trouble. (Bella, Mike, and Jacob go to the movie on Friday, Bella wakes up sick Saturday morning, and is sick all the way until Sunday morning, at which point she calls Jacob, and he says to wait until he calls her. Then it says that for two days she tried calling him, but no one answered, bringing us to Tuesday. Then apparently we skip ahead to Saturday, when she drives to his house and the hospital and gets Charlie to call Harry Clearwater. This would be okay, except that Bella then says she decides she will wait until next Saturday before she starts getting pushy and demanding to see Jacob, and she describes in detail how long that week feels. In this timeline, it's actually been closer to two weeks, but she makes no mention of how tough the days were between Tuesday and Saturday before she drives to the hospital.)

I went back and forth between letting the time be more stretched out (two weeks instead of one), and just having Beau briefly referring to the days that seemed to have been missing in New Moon, and conversely, severely crunching down the time so that it's really only less than a week from the Sunday Beau talks to Jules to the time he calls Bonnie. I decided to go ahead and go with the first one, along with my own explanation for why he doesn't make as big a deal about those days between Tuesday and Saturday in the first week...Hopefully that came out okay.

Oh, I also thought Bella normally has work on Saturdays (near as I can figure, she works Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays most weeks, although near the beginning of New Moon they traded her days to get her birthday off, so she was off Tuesday and worked Wednesday instead), but there was no mention made of that. So I slipped in my own explanation in there for that, too.

Yeah, maybe I'm making this more complicated than it really needs to be. xD

Once again, thank you all so much for the response last chapter—it definitely made my day, even if I was still feeling a bit off color. I'm so glad you're all having as much fun as I am. C: If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you next chapter~ (Again, could be a couple weeks this time, this next one's a tough one. x3)

Posted 3/1/16


	12. Cult

A/N: This one took me a bit longer than usual. Hopefully it was worth the wait. X3 At least I got a little ways ahead with future rough drafts, though, so I'm happy about that.

Oh, I have a bit of an announcement to make at the end. (Regarding one fairly major change I'll be making to the canon.) So you might want to be mentally prepared for that. X3

(And yes, I did drink Gatorade. (; Because Gatorade is designed to replenish your electrolytes and sugar levels when you're extremely active, for an inactive person to drink a ton can be very unhealthy. But if you're dehydrated [such as I was from throwing up a lot of water...yes, too much information, I know X3] it can really help get you get back and feeling better a bit faster. C: Pedialyte's another alternative, which is the one I think doctors usually recommend. But yeah, you have to be careful with any of those kinds of drinks [even ones people think of as being relatively healthy, like Gatorade], you wouldn't want to drink it too much, like a substitute for water. x3)

Thanks so much for reading so far, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 11: Cult

Each time I woke up and discovered I was still alive was a shock. Still, I couldn't completely calm down until I dashed around to the next hall over, and made sure Charlie had made it through the night, too.

Charlie knew I was acting strange. I was constantly tense, on edge, jumping at the slightest noises and suddenly going deathly pale for seemingly no apparent reason. However, there was an upside to my perpetual state of terror—it distracted me from the fact that another week had gone by, and Jules still had not called.

However, it was inevitable that eventually the pressing, overriding fear that I could die any minute would die down a little, settling into a constant, dull buzz at the back of my mind. At that point, the desperation to see her intensified. I knew if she was only around, the sound of her laugh would make it all bearable, at least for a while.

I hoped she would call Monday. If she had made some progress with Em, I felt sure she would want to tell me. But Monday came and went, and still no phone call.

I called the Black house Tuesday afternoon, but again no one answered. Either the phone lines were down again, or possibly Bonnie had decided to invest in caller I.D.

By Wednesday I was getting desperate again, and I called the house every half an hour from the time I got home from school until after eleven. Someone could call me a stalker, I didn't care.

Thursday I got into my truck and sat there with the keys in the ignition, trying to convince myself it wouldn't hurt anything to take a quick trip down to La Push. But that was a lie, and I knew it. By now, Lauren would have gone back to Victor. He could be here any day, and from that standpoint, it was safer for Jules if she kept away from me as she was doing.

I knew there was no running away from my inevitable fate—there was nowhere to run to. Anyone I might have gone to for refuge, I would be putting them in danger, too. Besides, Victor would certainly come to my house before he went anywhere else, and I shuddered to think what would happen if he ran into Charlie here alone. If he found me straight away, maybe he would just take me and leave.

Seeing how anxious I was, and attributing it to Jules's continued absence, Charlie went ahead and called the Clearwaters again to find out if the Blacks were out of town. Saul said that he'd seen Bonnie at the last council meeting just Wednesday night, and she hadn't mentioned anything about leaving. When Charlie hung up the phone, he turned to me.

"Listen, Beau—you've just got to calm down and let Julie come around when she feels like it. Sometimes girls get a bit freaked out when you get a little...overenthusiastic. Just cool it for now, kid, and let her have some breathing room. She'll be back before long. She was sick a week, and now she's spending time with some other friends. You might want to think about doing that, too."

Sick a week. As I was driving around aimlessly after school the next day, trying my best not to dwell too much on Victor and the rest of it, for some reason those words came back to my mind. And another detail that Charlie had mentioned that I hadn't paid much attention to at the time, that Jules had cut her hair.

Something suddenly clicked into place. I slammed on the brakes, stopping dead in the middle of the road.

" _Idiot,_ " I hissed under my breath, clenching my hand into a fist, and tapping it against my forehead. "Freaking, dim-witted moron."

Jules had told me everything I needed to know already. She'd told me about the weirdness surrounding Samantha Uley, how some of the girls at her school had been sick for a week, then suddenly reappeared as Sam's loyal adjuncts.

Her words drifted back to me. _Sam is looking at me like I'm next on her list—what if that happens to me too? What if I don't have a choice?_

Of course, it all made sense now. Why she had been avoiding me, her desperation that last time I'd spoken to her on the phone. Sam had gotten to her, done the same thing to her as she'd done to Emma.

I drove my truck back to the house, and debated with myself what to do. Going to try to find Jules carried with it some risk—I might inadvertently lead Victor or Lauren right to her. But if I did nothing, then she would remain trapped under Samantha's control. There might still be a chance to save her, but if I did nothing, it might be too late.

I knew there was no choice. I could have no idea how long the vampires would take to come for me—it had already been a week, so maybe Victor had decided to take his time. After all, time was a lot different for a vampire than a human. The other danger, which I knew for a fact was happening right now, had to take precedence.

I ducked briefly inside the house to make a phone call. I didn't know exactly what was going on, but maybe it was something the police should be involved in. I would feel better going to La Push if at least one person had an idea where I was. After all, Jules had called Sam and her posse something akin to Amazon warriors, and I had a vague recollection of a documentary I'd seen once, and I thought I remembered stories about how any men they captured in their territory were scalped and had their eyes gouged out. If I disappeared and my body wasn't discovered right away, at least Charlie would know where to start investigating.

I heard the phone ring several times, and I was relieved when it was Charlie who answered.

"Chief Swan."

"Hey, Dad, it's me."

Charlie paused for a moment. Perhaps he noticed the odd note in my voice—a little higher than usual, cracking at the end—because he asked, "What's wrong?"

"I..." I took a second to gather my bearings, then started in without preamble. "Look, it's about Jules. I don't know, something that's been going on down at the reservation has me worried."

"What is it?" Charlie asked, and his tone was a little deeper than usual, speaking as Chief Swan rather than my dad.

I tried to mentally line up the necessary information. "I just remembered something Jules told me about before. She said something's been happening to a few other people down there, and she seemed pretty scared. She said some of her friends were gone from school for a while and then started avoiding her, and now I think she's been doing the same thing. I don't know if you remember Samantha Uley, but—the way Jules talked it sounded like she might be getting the girls down there involved in something kind of bad."

"Samantha Uley?" Charlie repeated, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, her," I answered.

Charlie's police voice was gone, and he sounded more relaxed. "I wouldn't worry about that, Beau. Samantha acts older than her age, she's very responsible. She sets a very good example for the other girls, you should hear Bonnie rave about her. She was also the one who helped you from—" Charlie broke off, as he realized he had almost entered the off-limits topic of that day in the woods.

I knew I had to explain it in a way that Charlie could understand. "I don't know, Dad," I tried again. "Jules seemed really scared of her. The way she talked about it, it's like some all-female gang, and they've been forcing people to join up."

"Did you try to talk to Bonnie?" I could tell Charlie wasn't inclined to think anything bad of Samantha, especially considering her part in rescuing me last fall.

I hesitated. "Bonnie didn't seem that worried."

"Well, there you are," he said, as though that settled the matter. "I'm sure Jules was just overreacting, Samantha is a head taller than just about anyone else, and she doesn't talk a whole lot. I'm sure she must seem intimidating to some of the younger girls. I'm glad Julie seems to be connecting with some friends down there, she can't be with you _all_ the time, kiddo. _"_

"Dad..." I grumbled, but I knew the cause was already lost.

"Listen, kiddo," Charlie said, with just a touch of sternness this time, "I've got a lot on my plate right now. Two tourists have gone missing off a trail outside crescent lake." He sounded just a little anxious as he added, "The wolf problem is getting out of hand."

This momentarily distracted me. I hadn't expected to ever hear about the wolves again, seeing as how I figured Laurent would have taken them out.

"You think that's really what happened to them?" I asked. "How do you know?"

"Tracks," Charlie said grimly. "And there was a little blood, too." He paused, and I thought I heard a voice in the background. "Look, kid, I've to go. Don't worry about Julie, I'm sure she's fine. You'll see her again before long."

"Okay," I said, feeling just a little frustrated, and I hung up the phone. Before I'd really had time to think about it, I dialed the Black number again, my fingers moving with practiced ease over the buttons I'd hit at least a hundred times in the last week.

To my shock, Bonnie answered on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

Because I hadn't really been expecting to talk to her, I wasn't ready, and when I spoke, my voice came out in almost a growl. "Hey," I said, sounding like a prize-fighter coming into the ring. I took a deep breath, then tried to force my voice to assume an easier, more friendly tone. "Think I could talk to Jules for a minute?"

"Sorry, Jules is out at the moment."

Surprise, surprise. "You know where she went?"

"Out with some friends, I think."

I was getting pushy again now, and my voice didn't come out as casual as I meant it to as I said, "Yeah? Like Quil maybe? Or some others?"

Bonnie's tone was guarded. "No," she said slowly. "No, I don't think I saw Quil there today."

"What about Emma?" I said.

"Oh yeah," said Bonnie, and she sounded happier to be able to answer in the affirmative. "Yeah, she's been hanging out with Emma."

That was enough to confirm my suspicions. Emma had already been sucked into the Amazon-cult.

"Think you could tell her I called?" I said. "And tell her to call me back when she gets the chance."

"Sure, no problem," Bonnie answered easily. The line clicked a moment later.

I got in the truck and headed straight out to La Push. I'd made up my mind. I was going to park the truck in front of the Black house, and then I was going to sit there. All through the night, and even through school tomorrow, if that's what it took. Jules would have to come home eventually, and when she did, we were going to talk. I was going to find out what was going on, and I was going to help her.

As I passed the forested area and neared the reservation, my eyes, which were on the road, noticed something. A lone figure, walking just along the edge. I could tell from the black hair and russet skin visible above the collar of a jacket that it was someone from the reservation, and for a moment my heart leaped as I had the irrational thought that maybe it was Jules.

However, as I drew closer I saw the figure was too small to be Jules, and I sank a little. But then I blinked, and I thought I did recognize who it was. I crossed the truck to the wrong side of the road and pulled up alongside her, cranking down the window and leaning my head out. "Quil?" I called. "That you?"

Quil paused where she was, and turned to look up at me. Her expression made my stomach lurch. Her eyes were distant, and there was a deep slash across her brow where it was creased with brooding worry.

"Hi, Beau," she said, then sighed and looked away.

I swallowed, and tried to make my voice light. "I didn't figure you for a hitchhiker."

She didn't smile. Quil had always seemed like the type to me who never let anyone get her down. But her eyes were downcast, focusing on the road just a few feet in front of her. "I'm not...usually." she said.

I surveyed her expression for a long moment. "You okay?" I said at last, gently.

She didn't answer, and I said, "Hey, you want me to give you a lift? I'm headed over to the reservation anyway."

She hesitated, then shrugged, indifferent. "Sure, I guess."

I waited until she had gone around to the other side of my truck and slid into the seat, and told me approximately where her house was, before I started back down the road, crossing back over to the correct side. My eyes flickered toward her. "So," I said, in a would-be casual tone. "Seen anything of Jules lately?"

Quil didn't look at me, her eyes staring out the side window. "I saw her just a bit ago. From a distance."

"A distance?" I said, my brow creasing.

"Yeah." She wrapped her fist lightly on the side of the truck door, with restless agitation. "I caught a glimpse of her and Em together, just on the edge of the forest. I think I saw Sam and the others too. I know she saw me—we made eye contact for just a second. But she didn't wave or anything, she just kind of ignored me. Then they all took off. I thought maybe I could catch up so I followed, but they lost me. I just kept on going for a while...I just barely found the road again."

"Hmm," I said, my mouth set in a hard line. "Guess that settles it then."

Quil's eyes drifted back to me, listless, but with a touch of confusion. I noticed her usual carefully styled hair was a mess, and the usual black makeup around her eyes was smeared a little, as though she'd been crying. "Settles what?"

I shrugged. "Jules told me about Samantha, and what's been going on. The gang, cult, whatever it is. Jules hasn't talked to me in weeks, I knew something was up."

Quil shook her head. "Jules and I talked about it before...before. She didn't want to be a part of it, or Em either. But now...I just don't understand what could have happened. Maybe it's drugs or something, but I just can't picture it. I'm almost afraid it's something worse. And I'm afraid..." She suddenly gripped the armrest of the truck tightly, and her eyes were wide with fear as she stared out the front windshield. "...I'm afraid that I'm going to be next."

I turned to look at her. "You won't be," I said, my voice more confident than I felt.

She snorted slightly, glancing at me, then back at the line of trees beside the road. "Yeah, like you'd be any help," she muttered. "You can't even fix a car."

I looked back at her seriously. "I'm going to get Jules away from Sam, whatever I have to do," I insisted. "We're going to get her back."

Quil shook her head, smiling without humor. Her eyes were hopeless as she continued to stare out the window.

We were at the reservation now, and I slowed. Quil listlessly told me to let her out, as her house was only a little further down the way, and I stopped. I watched her slam the truck door, then trudge along the shoulder of the road, arms folded, head bent against the light wind.

The fear on Quil's face and, even worse, her hopeless resignation, continued to occupy my thoughts as I made a wide U-turn and headed back toward the Blacks' house. I stopped in the gravel drive and cut the engine. I rolled down the windows to get some air, then sat back in my seat, settling in to wait.

I looked up at the house, and noticed a flash of movement in the window. Bonnie was there, and her mouth opened in shock before the expression quickly turned to a frown, a deep furrow in her brow. I grinned pointedly and waved, and she, regarding me with suspicion, dropped the curtain.

I knew I could be here for hours, so I reached over into my school bag and pulled out my math book, along with an already completed assignment of all the odd problems. Maybe I'd do the even problems for the lesson, too, just to keep me busy.

I was barely into the third problem when there came a sharp wrap on the side of my door. Startled, I jumped slightly, then turned, expecting to see Bonnie there to drive me off.

It was Jules.

"What are you doing here?" she snarled.

In the few short weeks since I'd last seen her, Jules had been completely transformed. Just as Charlie had noted, much of her long hair had been sheared off, so it hung in uneven lengths around her face, as though someone had taken a knife to it. The planes of her face seemed somehow harder, too, the angles sharper. But none of that really bothered me—it was the expression in her face, in the eyes, that stared at me with undisguised ferocity. Her normally warm, twinkling dark brown eyes were hard. The warm sunlight that she gave off had gone straight to the crushing pressure of a black hole.

"Jules?" I said, stunned, and my voice cracked.

Her mouth tightened, and my eyes flickered to see that she wasn't alone. Four others stood a short ways back, all glaring at me with the same ferocity, the same dislike.

All except one—Samantha Uley stood just a little behind the others, her expression calm, almost serene as she gazed evenly back at me, her face betraying none of her thoughts.

I sat there for a moment, unable to process it. I just stared back at Samantha, and her unfathomable expression. Then, slowly, I felt something click into place. Her fault. _She_ had done this.

I'd never been a violent guy. I'd never gotten into much in the way of fights—I'd gotten beaten up on a few occasions as a kid, and when I'd hit my growth spurt, my size had been enough to make people leave me alone, before they could find out just how uncoordinated I was. I'd never thrown a real punch like I meant it and actually hit anyone before—let alone hit a girl.

But as I looked at Samantha now, I was suddenly filled with violent thoughts. Perhaps it was because, looking at her now, she didn't seem very much like a girl, or even human. She seemed more like an evil goddesses from one of those old Greek legends, the ones who descended from the heavens to toy with human lives, who existed to be defeated by the heroes, sent spiraling to the depths of Tartarus.

Samantha didn't seem human, and suddenly I wished I wasn't human either. I wished I had the power to fight her on her level. If only I was a god, too—or at least the closest thing to it.

I wrenched my gaze away from Samantha to look at Jules again, and her face contorted in the mask of a stranger.

Jules's scowl intensified. "What do you want?" she demanded.

I swallowed, forcing myself to hold her harsh gaze. "I...wanted to talk to you," I said in a low voice.

"So talk," she hissed, and her black eyes seemed to bore holes mine. "No one's stopping you." Her knuckles were white as she gripped the side of my truck door, as though she would have liked to wrench it off.

I didn't respond at first. I'd never seen Jules act like this before. Not with anyone, and certainly not me. She was always carefree, happy and joking. Seeing her, looking at me like this—it felt like I'd just been punched in the stomach.

"Alone, if you don't mind," I said more quietly still, and I was surprised by how steady my voice sounded.

Jules turned her head, and even though I couldn't follow her gaze, I knew instinctively she was looking to Sam.

Samantha nodded once, then said something in a low voice. It sounded like it was in a foreign language, and I could only guess that it was Quileute. Without a word then, she turned and disappeared into the Black house, and a moment later the other girls, Emma, Paula, and a girl I thought was named Jay followed, none of them once glancing back at me.

"All right," said Jules. When the others were out of sight, I saw the tension and hostility in her frame relax a little, and some of the ferocity left her face. However, as some of the anger disappeared, it left behind a kind of deadness, and she stared at me with eyes that looked almost solid black.

I took a breath. "So," I said. "I think you know what I'm going to ask."

Jules didn't reply, only stared at me, her mouth tight. An unexplained resentment colored her dark eyes, and I couldn't seem to breathe right under her cold gaze.

I glanced back at the house, where I was sure eyes within were watching us, and I said, "Let's go."

Jules said nothing as I got awkwardly out of the car and headed in the direction of the trees to the north. I concentrated on the squelching sound of my feet as I walked through the wet grass and thick mud, but when I didn't hear the sound of footsteps behind me, I turned, expecting to see Jules still back by the truck. However, I was startled to see she was right beside me, moving with almost perfect silence even on the damp ground.

As we reached the edge of the trees and headed down the path, I began to feel a little better. Sam and the others couldn't see us here. However, I continued to walk, still trying to think how to start the conversation. I was starting to feel frustrated, even disappointed. How had Jules let herself get pulled into this? She'd hated the idea so much, and now she was suddenly like a completely different person. All the fun and warmth were gone, and now she was acting like some kind of thug. And Bonnie didn't even seem to care, and Samantha was able to just stand there, acting all cool and nonchalant.

Jules suddenly increased her speed, and even though my legs were a little longer, she easily passed me and halted right in my path, swinging around to face me.

I blinked, forced to stop. For a moment I stood there gaping, startled by the smooth, liquid grace of the movement, like a professional ice skater or an Olympic gymnast. In spite of Jules's natural athleticism, she'd always been kind of awkward and liable to trip over things, not unlike me.

"Well?" Jules said coolly. "Let's get this over with, I don't have all day."

I said nothing, only stood where I was, waiting. She knew what I wanted to know.

Jules suddenly sighed deeply, and some of the fight seemed to drain out of her. "It wasn't what I thought after all. I was completely wrong."

My eyes never moved from her face. "You mean Samantha hasn't been forcing people into this cult against their will?"

Jules looked down. "No. She's...not who I thought. In fact, she's a good person—she's been helping me a lot."

I looked Jules square in the eye, and I didn't believe her.

"Right," I said sarcastically. "Sam is great. So if that wasn't it, what's really going on? What's she helping you with?"

Jules hesitated, eyes still on the forest path. "I can't tell you."

"Right," I said again, my lip curling, even as pain needled the back of my mind. "Of course you can't."

"She's helping me," she repeated in a murmur, almost like a trance. "It wasn't at all what I thought. Everything she has to deal with...what _we_ have to deal with..."

Suddenly her face contorted with anger. She clenched her fists and her entire body shook, and her black eyes seemed to stare right past me, at something I couldn't see.

I forced myself to stay calm, hoping she would be calm, too. I took a slow, deliberate step forward, stretching out a hand to her. "Come on, Jules," I said, my voice low and kind. "You've got to tell me what's going on—what changed. You know I can't help you if I don't know what happened."

Jules shook her head, and her face was suddenly a mask of pain. "You can't help me," she whispered. "No one can help me now."

"Just tell me what she did to you," I pleaded, reaching for her. I wanted to put my arms around her like I had last time, to help soothe her pain and worry.

However, Jules backed away from me, shaking her head vigorously. "No," she said, with a note of desperation. "No, don't touch me."

I couldn't take it. "She's told you not to touch anyone?" I said in a low voice.

Jules's eyes flickered back up to my face, and very suddenly her pained eyes hardened. "Look," she said coldly. "This is not Sam's fault. If this is anyone's fault, it's—"

She broke off and looked away, and her dark eyes were again filled with resentment again, with a bitterness I couldn't understand.

"Who?" I demanded. "Who's to blame?"

Her mouth suddenly curled, and she gave a harsh, derisive laugh devoid of humor. "I don't think you want to know."

"Tell me," I said, my voice rising. "Tell me now."

She looked up into my eyes, her mouth still twisted in that half smile that didn't hold a trace of amusement. "It was _them,_ " she said softly. " _They_ did this to us—your beloved, blood-sucking _beasts_."

I froze where I was, and for a moment, my mind went blank.

No. No, these were two separate worlds. My old, magical but terrifying world, and the real one I'd been trying to get used to for the past several months. Jules was part of the real world. So why—why would she say that as though—as though—

"I told you didn't want to know," she said, sneering, but her eyes still hard with anger. "I knew you wouldn't want to hear it."

"What...what are you talking about?" I said slowly.

"Don't waste my time," she said. "You _know_ who I mean. If you make me say the name, I swear I will."

"I don't...understand," I said again.

"The _Cullens_ ," she breathed, and she watched my face as the pain struck me deep in my chest. She added, a little more gently, "You made me say it, you know. The name. I know how you are when you hear it. I noticed that a long time ago." A touch of forlorn wistfulness crept into her voice.

I shook my head, trying somehow to make sense of what she was saying. Okay, the Quileutes had legends about the blood-drinkers. Jules had never believed it, but maybe Samantha's whole gig was to convince the younger girls that the vampires did exist, and then...then what? Fight them? Even if that wasn't such a hopeless objective, what was the point, when there were no longer any vampires in Forks?

I scrambled, trying to figure out what I might have said a year ago, as I walked with Jules along that beach—what a person without any of the knowledge of the bizarre or supernatural would say in my place.

"This is about that legend you told me," I said slowly. "Back on the beach. The superstitions." I shook my head. "Come on, Jules...you don't really believe that stuff, do you?"

Her expression didn't change, and she only stared at me coldly.

I went on, "Besides, how can you blame...I mean, they left. They've been gone for ages. How can they be related to whatever Samantha is doing now?"

"Sam's not doing anything," Jules snapped. "And maybe they are gone, but that doesn't change anything. Sometimes things are just set in motion—and then it's too late."

"What?" I demanded, my frustration nearly a crescendo, tripping over my words as the questions tumbled from my mouth. "What's been set in motion? What's too late? What are you blaming them for?"

Jules moved so fast I didn't even see it, and suddenly her face was an inch from mine, her lips curled back from her teeth in a feral snarl.

"For _existing_ ," she hissed.

I blinked, and I was stunned when Edythe's voice suddenly drifted up to the forefront of my consciousness.

" _Quiet now, Beau,"_ she said softly. _"Be still. Don't push her."_

Jules stood in front of me, quivering with anger.

I was a little confused. I'd felt certain I'd figured out what caused the hallucinations—adrenaline induced by danger. I was never sorry to hear Edythe's voice—ever since Lauren, I couldn't block out her name the way I had before—but it didn't makes sense that I would be hearing it now, when there wasn't any danger.

" _Back off a minute,"_ Edythe said softly. _"Let her calm down."_

I shook my head. "Ridiculous," I muttered, and I wasn't sure who I was answering.

Jules took several deep breathes, then backed up a step. "Whatever," she said. "This is pointless. I'm not going to argue, the damage is already done."

"What damage?" I demanded.

Instead of answering, Jules stepped around me, heading back in the direction of the house. It seemed our talk was over.

But no—there was so much more to say. I couldn't let things end like this.

"I ran into Quil on the way over," I called after her, desperate for anything that would get her attention.

Jules paused, but didn't turn.

"She's scared," I said. "She's scared she's next on the list."

Jules turned her head partway around, and for just a moment, a spasm of pain flickered across her face. Then she turned away, shaking her head. "No," she murmured, and it sounded like she was talking more to herself than to me. "No, that's impossible. It's over now. She shouldn't...She won't..." Jules bent where she was, clutching her head, her teeth gritted. Suddenly she spun, and in a blur of movement, her fist struck the trunk of the nearest tree.

I jumped back a step, shocked. Jules was strong, tough, but I'd never seen inclined to actual violence. The large tree shuddered under the strength of the blow, and a section of brittle bark crumbled away. I saw a long crack in the bare pale trunk underneath.

Jules jerked back, staring down at her hand. For a moment, her eyes were wide with something like horror, then she abruptly spun away. "I have to get back," she said, and without another word, she started back toward the house, moving so fast I had to run to catch up.

"Back to Samantha and her followers," I accused at her retreating back.

"Yeah, that's right," she said roughly.

As she drew level with my truck, I finally caught up with her, and I reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder. I could feel her skin through the jacket she wore—hot, feverish, just like that last day as we'd been going home from the theater.

She threw me off like I'd burned her and she spun around once again to face me.

Her face was dark, almost menacing, as she looked at me. "Go home, Beau," she said in a hard voice. "Go home, and don't come back."

I hesitated. "I won't," I said quietly.

She stared back at me for a moment, her face again full of bitter resentment, anger. She suddenly seized me by the arm, and roughly dragged me around the truck bed, then threw me in the direction of the driver's side door. I staggered, and it took me a second to right myself. I spun back to face her, and I saw the look in her eyes was even harder than before.

She pointed at my truck. "Get out of here, Beau. Right now. I never want to see your face around here again—okay?"

I stared back at her, and for the first time, some of the anger slipped through the wall I'd tried to erect—the wall of telling myself she was only acting this way because of Sam. The way she looked at me—as though everything I did irritated her, as though I was no more than an annoyance who had outlived my appeal—it felt like a blow to the chest.

"Jules..." I whispered, and my voice was pleading.

"Look, Beau," she said, voice lower but every bit as hard as before. "It's over. Whatever we've been doing the past couple months, we're not going back to it. Ever. As of now, you and me—we aren't friends. It's over. It's done. Go home, and don't come back. I don't want to see you again."

I stood where I was, staring at her. I could feel it, creeping through me slowly. Desperation prickled on my forehead, slowly spread through me from the black hole in my chest to every part of me. This couldn't happen. I wouldn't let it.

"You..." I began slowly, haltingly. "You said before...you said you wouldn't ever..."

Jules looked back at me, her eyes cold. "I'm sorry, Beau," she said evenly. "I'm sorry it has to be this way, but it does." As she spoke, she sounded like a perfect stranger.

As I looked back into her eyes, I thought I saw something there—a look I didn't understand. She looked at me with the eyes of someone desperate, trapped.

Something icy seemed to slide down into my stomach as a thought rose, unbidden, from the back of my mind. I'd wondered how she could have possibly gotten mixed up with Sam, landed herself in this situation. But maybe I'd been wrong. Maybe that bitter resentment, that trapped look didn't have anything to do with Samantha and her people. Maybe Sam was, ironically, her refuge—a refuge from what she really wanted to escape from.

All this time, I'd taken her kind, generous nature for granted. But maybe she'd finally reached her limit. Maybe joining Samantha was her way of finally getting away from what she desperately needed to escape from. Me—me and the empty friendship that couldn't ever be what she wanted it to be.

I ought to let her, I knew. I ought to go back home, and let her live her life—free from me, the irreparably broken dead weight that I was.

But I couldn't.

I heard myself speaking before I'd even fully decided what I would say. "Jules, look I...know what I said before...about how I couldn't change. I'm sorry. But...But who knows really, right?"

I heard myself, stretching, stretching the truth near to the breaking point, until it was something very much like a lie. "I mean...maybe, if you just gave me some more time...who knows, right? Don't give up so fast. I mean, sometimes all it takes is a little doggedness, right?"

Jules's mask of anger slipped. As she looked at me, her eyes were suddenly haunted, and her mouth twisted with pain. "Oh, Beau," she said softly. "Don't do that to me, please."

I knew how terrible I was being, how selfish, but I couldn't seem to stop the flow of words. "It's because I've been acting like this, isn't it? That's why this is happening. But I swear, Jules, I'll try...I'll try harder, I will. Just please...stay."

Jules shook her head, so hard it was almost violent. "It's not you, Beau, I swear—it's not you at all. It's nothing you've done, it's—" She suddenly choked and her eyes dropped from mine. "It's me." She looked down at herself, at the palms of her hands as though they were covered in something vile. "I'm not what I was before. I'm—not fit to be around you. I'm no good to be your friend, or anything else."

I was quiet for a moment. I tried to get my mind around everything, everything she had said. Bloodsuckers, Samantha helping them, not fit to be around anyone...I couldn't make sense of it all. A new tactic to get rid of me? Or was Samantha's cult to blame after all?

In my confusion, I was suddenly angry again, and words poured out from me in a savage rush.

"That's ridiculous, Jules," I snapped. "You are my friend, and you always will be. What do you mean you're no good to be my friend? Is that what Sam's been feeding you—You're not good to be anyone's friend but hers, is that it?"

Jules's expression had hardened again at my mention of Sam. "No one had to tell me anything," she said flatly. "I already know—I know what I am."

"You're my friend," I repeated, desperate. "Please, Jules, don't go. I—I need—"

But Jules was backing away from me, shaking her head. "Sorry, Beau," she said, and her voice had fallen to a broken mumble. "I'm sorry it turned out like this." And, before I could do anything to stop her, she turned away from me, and disappeared into the house.

I could only stand where I was, staring at the place she had left. Rain pelted the top of my head, soaking me clear through to the skin.

I waited for her to come back. She would come back, I was certain. No matter what she said, we were friends. She wouldn't be able to help but come back.

The rain was really pouring now, and the wind howled. The droplets were hitting me at an angle, freezing against against my face and clothes. Still I waited.

At last the door of the house opened, but it wasn't Jules in the doorway.

Bonnie gazed out at me through the rain, and there was pity in her old face. "Charlie just called," she said, speaking above the pounding of the rain. "I told him you were on your way."

I didn't answer, only turned and wordlessly climbed into my truck. I realized the windows were still open and the seats were slick and wet. I didn't care.

Maybe this hadn't been quite as bad as—as the last time. The end. But that wasn't much comfort—like trying to compare death by drowning to being stabbed or poisoned. Maybe one was a more painful way to die than the other, but either way, you were still dead.

I'd really started to believe that the ragged hole could be partially healed, or at least plugged up so it didn't hurt so bad. I'd thought at least if I could only be around Jules, things could almost be okay, at least for periods of time. But I'd been deluding myself. Jules hadn't been helping me at all, she'd just been setting me up to punch out a gaping hole of her own.

I drove up to the house in the truck to find Charlie out waiting for me on the porch. He'd gotten up to come over before I'd even come to a stop.

"Bonnie called," he said as he stood by the truck door. "She said you and Jules got into a fight. I just wanted to make sure you were...okay..."

As his eyes swept across my face, he faltered on the last words. He froze in place for a second, his eyes widening in horror. He reached up and gripped my shoulder supportively, but the hopeless horror in his face remained, as he recognized the expression in my eyes.

"Let's get you inside," he said quietly, abruptly.

I got out of the car, and Charlie put an arm around my shoulders, closing the truck door and opening the house door for me as I walked listlessly into the house.

Charlie wasn't happy until he got me to the couch to sit, and got a hunting blanket from upstairs he made me wrap around myself. Only then did I notice I was still shivering from the cold.

"What happened?" he asked gruffly, again putting a hand on my shoulder and shaking it. "Anything...you want to talk about?"

There was a lot to say, but the words didn't seem to want to come.

He waited patiently, looking at me anxiously, and finally I spoke.

"We aren't friends anymore," I said in a flat, dead voice. The words sounded childish to my own ears, but I didn't care. I continued dully, "I think—I don't think Samantha will let her be friends with me."

Charlie looked at me very oddly. "Who told you that?"

I took a shuddering breath, then looked straight ahead, staring at nothing. "Jules did. Or at least, I can read between the lines."

I expected Charlie to defend Sam, to tell me I must be misinterpreting things. But he was staring at me, and he looked shaken.

"You really think there might be something going on?" he asked in a low voice. He continued on, almost to himself, "Sometimes, with kids, you really don't know what's going on behind the scenes...And sometimes the charismatic ones, who seem like they've got everything together, are the ones you have to watch out for the most..."

I sat where I was for a minute more, then lethargically pushed myself up from the couch. My clothes felt heavy as lead, and the dripping water was soaking the carpet. "I'm going to go change," I muttered dully, then turned and slowly headed for the stairs.

I took a hot shower, trying to rid myself of the cold that seemed to have seeped down to my very bones, but after a few minutes I was still shivering, and eventually I gave up and shut it off. In the sudden quiet, I realized I could hear Charlie downstairs, talking to someone. It sounded like he was on the phone, and his voice was raised.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I pushed the door open a crack.

"I don't think so, Bonnie. That doesn't make sense."

A long minute passed before Charlie suddenly exploded, "Don't you dare try to push this onto my son!" He lowered his voice and continued, "He's a good kid, and I know he's been straight forward with her all along...Well, if that was it, then why didn't you say so before? No, I think Beau's instincts are right on about this...If he says your daughter was scared before—" He broke off, apparently cut off mid-sentence, but when he spoke again, he was almost shouting.

"That is ridiculous, I won't sit and listen to that. I don't want to hear that kind of talk about my son again, is that clear?" He paused for some kind of response, and his reply was almost too low for me to pick up. "No, I'm not going to go bringing that up again. You don't have any idea how tough that was on him, or what he's been going through. He's only just started to come around, and I think a lot of that has been thanks to Julie. If something is going on down there with those girls and my son ends up getting hurt again—every one of you who's been turning a blind eye to this will have to answer to me."

There were a couple more curt exchanges before I heard Charlie slam down the phone in its cradle.

I pulled on my pajamas, then crept across the hall to my room, as Charlie continued to mutter angrily in the kitchen.

I laid down in my bed, staring at the ceiling. So, apparently Bonnie had decided to turn me into the bad guy. I'd been toying around with Jules, and she'd finally had the sense to get away from me before it could get out of hand. For just a moment, I'd believed that myself. That, beneath everything else, that was really the root cause of everything.

But something in the things Jules had said to me, particularly there at the end, had me thinking otherwise now. I felt like there was some kind of secret going on, something beyond normal, everyday life, which Bonnie and the other council members who paid no attention to the alarm and strangeness surrounding Amazon warrior Samantha and her loyal minions.

I rolled over onto my side, and I was glad that at least Charlie was on my side now.

I closed my eyes, and as the darkness of the day settled down upon me, I tried to find a pinprick of light, something to hold onto when I felt like I might be crushed. Edythe's soothing, warning voice played at the back of my mind, over and over, until at last I fell asleep.

There I found myself walking in a forest. Not the thick, deep forest of my usual dream, but a light, sparse one, as though I were just on its periphery. Beside me strode a lanky, graceful figure, and I turned to see Jules. Not the Jules I knew, but the new Jules, graceful, her face hard and distorted with bitterness. Strangely, the unnatural smooth grace of her walk reminded me of someone else, and as I watched, her dark skin turned pale, and her shorn, uneven raven hair lengthened down to her back, shimmering bronze where the light touched it. Her dark eyes melted into gold, then to crimson, then back to gold again. And then at last her features shifted, and her face became so beautiful I couldn't find my breath. I stretched out a hand to take her arm, but she stepped out of my reach. I opened my mouth to call her name, but before the word could leave my mouth, she was gone. I heard a sudden screech, like someone screaming—

I startled awake, and for a moment I looked around me in the dark, disoriented. Then I heard the same strange sound from my dream again, and I realized I'd really heard it. A high-pitched squeal, like fingernails across glass, followed by a heavy thud. I turned toward my window, and felt my blood freeze in my veins.

* * *

A/N: And, there's another one. I want to think this chapter went more smoothly than the last one, but high emotional scenes always make me nervous...I suppose I'll need awhile before I'll really be able to have an objective opinion. x3

So, like I mentioned at the beginning, I've got a bit of an announcement to make, which a few of you might like, and others might find on the disappointing side...

I wasn't going to bring this up until chapter fifteen, but as a couple of you asked about the imprinting aspect of the story, I figured it wouldn't hurt anything to go ahead and discuss it now. This is one of the very few major changes to canon I'll be making for this project—in that the element of imprinting is going to be entirely eliminated.

I put quite a bit of consideration into this, but I eventually settled on this route for a couple of reasons. First, it felt like (to me, at least) that the main plot twist related to the imprinting was in Breaking Dawn, when Jacob imprints on Renesmee. Clearly, as Edythe and Beau won't be having any children (very sad, as I think Beau would make a great father), this can't happen in a Breaking Dawn Reimagined, and I found the lingering potential that Jules might imprint on some random person a bit unsettling. (Jules can't imprint on Beau, because she's already seen him, and I think that would hold true even when he changed into a vampire. But even if she could, I admit, I wouldn't really want her to...I feel like that would be even more of a tragedy than we all know she's already going to go through. Being eternally in love with someone who's chosen someone else...)

The second reason is slightly more complicated, and has more to do with my personal tastes and views. While I found the concept of imprinting an intriguing plot element (and Jacob's imprinting on Renesmee was definitely an unexpected and interesting twist), I was a little disturbed by the way Bella seems to hold it up in admiration as an example of 'perfect love.' The imprinting compulsion seemed to me rather more like the Alpha's power to force members of the pack to obey his commands—unnatural, another example of the burden the wolves have to bear in having their freewill taken away from them. Perfect, selfless love such as the imprinting seemingly seems to create, when it's something they don't have a choice in, seems more like a dark spell than real love.

So, even if one of the key themes of Twilight seems to be 'Love is not a choice,' the theme of this Reimagined project will be slightly different—love in the sense of how you feel about someone is not a choice, but how that love manifests itself in actions is always a choice. (Love isn't about always feeling like being selfless and making sacrifices for the other person's good—Rather, it's about choosing to be selfless even when you don't feel like being selfless. And I feel like the phenomenon of imprinting, which changes someone fundamentally to suddenly be incredibly selfless, without conscious choice or effort, undermines that theme.)

And...those are my meandering, philosophical thoughts for the day. xD In short, there isn't going to be any imprinting in this story, but as the concept of imprinting isn't introduced until Eclipse, it's going to be a long time before that will make any difference. (And honestly, you might be surprised how really little difference it will make in the overall story. The Sam-Leland-Elliot story will play out a little differently, but in effect the end result will be the same.) I've already included the necessary alterations in rough drafts for Eclipse, so there's no changing it now. X3

I'm sorry if this is disappointing to anyone (which is part of why I decided to put a warning up so far ahead of time), but hope you'll still be able to enjoy the rest with me anyway.

Thank you so much for all your comments last chapter (seriously, I've never gotten so much consistent feedback on anything, you guys are the best), and if you have time, take a minute and let me know what you thought. See you next chapter!

Posted 3/14/16


	13. Intruder

A/N: Hey! Looks like we've finally reached the halfway point (well, not counting the epilogue), so I'm excited about that. We're moving into some of the trickier chapters that are going to need a little more attention, so I'm not entirely sure what the posting schedule will look like from here on, but I'm going to try to stick to no more than two weeks at the most per chapter. (As always, I was anxious about this chapter, and sometimes things need time to work themselves out, but I also don't want to let myself get too bogged down anywhere.)

Thanks so much for reading, hope you're all having as much fun as I am. :J See you at the end!

* * *

Chapter 12: Intruder

I heard the sound again, like the screech of nails on a chalkboard, followed by a loud thud. I turned to stare at the window, then froze.

Something was moving just outside, a large, dark shape, perched with unnaturally perfect balance on the almost nonexistent windowsill, gripping the eaves above for support.

My stomach dropped, and fear seized my vocal cords. I knew immediately who it was—for an instant a wild face flashed across my mind, fire-orange hair that stood up in spikes, mouth spread in a grin as he anticipated what he would do to me. Victor.

I staggered from my bed, instinctively looking around for a weapon, even though I knew it was useless. However, I stopped. No, I had to let this happen. If I fought back and made a ruckus, then Charlie might come to investigate.

My heart hammered in my throat as I slowly turned back to the window, to face my fate, not sure if I was ready. Then—

"Quit standing there like a moron and open the window!"

The husky voice spoke in a low, rushed whisper, but it was still familiar. The figure outside the window gave a slight wobble.

I ran to the window. The figure obligingly took her feet off the sill, hanging only by the eaves, and I slid back the glass, by now sure I must still be asleep.

Jules vaulted through the opening and landed with almost perfect silence on the carpet, then straightened.

I stared at her for a moment, then turned to look at the window slider she had her feet on a second before. It wasn't more than an inch wide, if that. I looked slowly around the window, for a nearby tree she might have used to get up here, but saw nothing besides a small spruce. I saw no way up here, short of a grappling hook.

I turned back to stare at her, incredulous and mystified. "How did you get up here?"

Instead of answering, she waved a hand dismissively. "It was nothing. Piece of cake."

"It was dangerous, wasn't it," I accused. "Were you trying to kill yourself?" I turned, folding my arms across my chest. "And what are you doing here anyway?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she said, planting her feet, and she suddenly grinned fiercely. "I'm here to keep my promise."

For the first time I really studied her, and I noticed she was dressed in what looked like a pair of black biking shorts, the spandex kind that clung tightly to her frame, and a white sleeveless undershirt that looked at least a size too small for her. She was completely barefoot. A cool breeze curled into the room, rustling the uneven locks of her black hair, and I shivered, but she didn't react.

The grin she had on her face now wasn't the happy, carefree grin I was used to seeing when we were in the garage together, or out riding our motorcycles. This one had a wild recklessness about it, a recklessness born of the bitterness of disappointment. The first grin was mine; the grin she had on now was all Samantha Uley's.

I felt the shock on my face slowly morph into a scowl. I stalked forward, then, stopping right beside her, pointed back at the window.

"Out," I ordered.

Jules blinked, her grin disappearing with surprise. "No way. I just ran all the way over here, climbed up a tree and swung over to your window because I came to apologize. About today. I'm not going to just turn around and leave."

I grabbed her arm and jabbed my finger again at the window, feeling like a bouncer at a bar. As before, I noticed how hot her skin was, like she was burning from fever.

Jules frowned, looking perplexed at my reaction, and she didn't budge. I pulled harder, but I couldn't seem to move her a muscle.

Suddenly, for some reason I couldn't explain, I felt exhausted. Letting go of her arm, I stumbled back to the bed and sank down on the edge, my head bowed.

"Beau?" she said with concern. She approached, coming to hover uncertainly beside me. "You okay?"

I sighed deeply, and my head ached, and I was sure the dark patches beneath my eyes were more pronounced than ever. I slowly raised my gaze to hers. "Do I look okay to you?" I asked in a low, hoarse voice.

Jules hesitated, eyes dropping to the floor. She backed up a step, fingers fidgeting nervously in front of her.

"Right," she said. "Crud. Well...it's like this, Beau. I'm sorry. I can't even say how sorry I am."

The pain in her face was too genuine to doubt her sincerity, and though the bitterness was still there, there was a different tone to it now. Depressed, rather than angry.

What little remained of my fight was gone, and my shoulders sagged. I shook my head. "Look, Jules, just forget it. I'm not...looking for apologies from you."

She nodded, eyes on the floor. "I know," she said quietly. "I just couldn't leave things like that. It was just too horrible. I'm sorry for acting like a jerk. I just—didn't know what else to do."

I sighed. "I don't get it, Jules. I don't get what's going on. You just keep going back and forth, pulling me in and pushing me away, but you haven't really told me anything."

I thought she might get annoyed, like she'd been in the forest, but at this, she only nodded, looking miserable. "I know. Believe me, Beau, I'd tell you everything if I could, but—"

She suddenly broke off, as though an invisible hand had seized her around the throat. Her mouth moved silently for a moment, then she let out a long, angry breath. "But I can't. I can't explain anything. If only I _could_."

My head was still bent, resting against my hand, and I stared at the floor. "Why can't you?" I asked in a mutter.

The room was silent for a long moment, and I looked up to see Jules's face contorted with some kind of effort, her brow furrowed in hard concentration, teeth gritted. Then abruptly she relaxed, blowing out a long breath.

"I can't," she said, clenching her fists and looking as though she'd like to punch something. "I just can't seem to do it."

"Do what?"

Jules shook her head, then turned to me. "Listen to me, Beau. Have you ever had a secret before, a secret you couldn't tell anyone? Not Charlie, not your mom...not even me, right here, right now?"

I hesitated as my thoughts flashed to the one and only secret that mattered.

I didn't reply, but I knew Jules took that as confirmation.

"Could you understand, Beau, that maybe I...maybe I'm stuck in a situation a bit...a bit like that?" She was fighting to get the words out, as though the invisible hand was hovering again just in front of her throat, ready to clamp down again if she tried to say the wrong thing. "Sometimes loyalty gets in the way of what you want to do. Sometimes, it's not your secret to tell. You can understand that, right?"

I stared back at her. I did understand, of course. I had been protecting a secret, one that wasn't mine. There were things Jules had said earlier today that made me think that she already knew all about it, or parts of it. Still, what she was saying wasn't enough. I still couldn't figure out what she was driving at.

Jules stared at my bemused features, then she suddenly gave a low growl and threw back her head, pressing her palms to her face. "Argh, this is _so_ frustrating. And what kills me the most is that I already told you everything—you already _know_ , if only you could just remember."

I stared at her blankly.

Jules suddenly dropped her hands, and she stared at me for a long moment, her expression speculative. "Maybe," she muttered. "Maybe—even if I can't say anything, maybe if you actually _guessed_ it...maybe..."

"What?" I said, brow furrowing. "What is it?"

"Guess," she said, and her eyes were suddenly bright with excitement, eager. "If you can guess what my secret is, then I can't do anything about that, right? That's how we get around it, see?"

I was trying to follow her train of thought, but I wasn't having much success. "Sure," I muttered sarcastically. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Jules studied my irritated, clueless expression again, then closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against either side of her temple, concentrating. "Let me see. Maybe I can give you a hint or two."

She opened her eyes, and they were suddenly intense. She moved with that odd liquid grace, coming to sit beside me on the bed. She looked straight into my eyes. "Okay," she said. "Okay. Think—do you remember that day we first met, on the beach at La Push?"

I nodded slowly.

"Do you remember our conversation?"

I nodded again. "You asked me about my truck. And you said you were building a car...asked if I knew where to find a master cylinder..."

"Yes," Jules said urgently. "Yeah, that's it. Keep going."

I could feel red splotches creeping up my neck as I remembered. That conversation that had been the beginning of everything.

"You told me some old stories...Quileute legends."

"Yes," Jules whispered, an undercurrent of excitement in her voice. "Now, what did I say? Remember, Beau. You're so close."

I looked away as the memories flooded back. Jules, without knowing it at the time, had been the one to tell me—the story that had made me realize what Edythe really was. Now, oddly enough, Jules seemed to be in on the secret too—or at least, she now believed the legends she had scoffed at before—and her once warm, carefree eyes had a measure of hardness that I was afraid would never disappear.

"I remember," I said slowly.

"Do you remember _all_ of—all of the—" She tried to finish the question, but again she cut off, as though she couldn't get enough air.

"The legends?" I finished for her. She nodded mutely, mouth closed.

I put a hand to my forehead, kneading it hard with my fingers. I remembered only one story, the one that mattered. I had hazy memories of Jules talking about other legends before that, leading up to the stories of the _cold ones_ , but when I tried to close my mind around them, they seemed to slip away like smoke. At last I sighed and slumped. I shook my head.

Jules growled low in her throat and suddenly stood up from the bed. She began to pace, tapping a fist against her forehead. "Come on, you know this," she muttered furiously. "You know this!"

I watched her blearily for a minute, then shook my head. "Jules, I'm...I'm exhausted right now. Maybe my brain would work better in the morning."

Jules stopped pacing and turned to face me. She took a slow, steadying breath, then nodded once. "Okay, yeah. Maybe it will still come back to you, if we just give it some time."

Her mouth suddenly twisted in a hard smile as she added, "I guess it shouldn't surprise me that you only remember the one story." Her eyes seemed to bore into mine. "Can I ask you something about that?" she said suddenly, mouth still curled in a bitter sneer. "I've been dying to know."

I eyed her warily.

"I mean about the vampire story I told you," she said. Her sarcastic expression turned a touch incredulous. "Did you honestly not know? Was it really me who helped you figure it out?"

I stared back at her mutely, though my thoughts spun wildly in my head. Despite what she had said yesterday, what she was saying now, I couldn't get it out of my mind that Jules was supposed to be a part of the real world, separate from _that_ one. Now suddenly the lines were blurring together, and I didn't know what to think.

Jules gave a quiet, harsh laugh and looked away. "Yeah, I know, you won't come out and say it. Even now that they're gone...like I said, loyalty above everything, right? Only for me, it's worse. You can't imagine how deep it goes—how unbreakable the shackles are..."

I stared at her, and I saw beneath the anger flickers of pain. Her bitter eyes were filled with torment, and I suddenly remembered that day out in the forest with our motorcycles, the fear on her then-still happy, carefree features. _"What if I don't have a choice?"_

My loyalty to the Cullens was my choice. But what about Jules? I didn't get exactly what was going on, but whatever it was, it didn't seem to be her decision.

I thought of Sam, her calm, even features. What was she doing to Jules? Was this something supernatural? Obviously Jules still had her own mind, but she also seemed to be under Sam's control somehow. Like a soul contract, or a curse.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was on my feet, and I had an arm around her shoulders. "There has to be something we can do," I said desperately. "Anything. What if—we just left? You and me. If we just got enough distance between you and Sam..."

Jules laughed hollowly, and shook her head. "I can't. It's not something I can escape from, Beau. Ever. This is my life now."

I wanted to argue, but the words got stuck in my throat. I didn't know what the rules of Sam's powers were, or what was going on.

Jules pulled away from me, with great reluctance, and turned toward the window. "I should go," she said in a low voice. "I'm really not supposed to be here. They're probably wondering where I am. I guess—I better go let them know."

"You don't have to tell them anything," I said severely.

She stared back at me, her expression bleak. "Yes, I do."

I took in her face, and I felt a sudden flash of anger.

"Don't go," I said in a rush. "Don't go back to them, Jules. Stay here. I don't care what I have to do, I'll help you get away from them."

Jules blinked, startled at my sudden intensity. She put up a hand, shaking her head.

"No, Beau, don't think that. That's not it, this isn't their fault. Samantha and the rest—they're all stuck in the same boat I am." She smiled a little ruefully. "Honestly, I feel bad for all that stuff I thought about Sam before. This situation would be a whole lot suckier if it wasn't for her. And the others—they're the one good thing about all this. I've got Em back as my friend, too. I really should be grateful. Things could be so much worse."

I gazed back at her, brow furrowed. I wondered if Jules really believed that.

I folded my arms, wondering if there was something I could do or say to make her see. "Okay," I said. "But if Sam's such a great person, why is she forbidding you from seeing me?"

Jules's half smile disappeared, and she looked uncomfortable. Her eyes dropped to the floor. "Because it's...not safe," she mumbled.

I stared at her, and my eyes widened slightly. My gaze suddenly flickered again to the window, and I remembered what I'd first thought when I saw her out there. If Jules and the others knew about the Cullens, then of course, it only made sense that they also knew about Victor. Maybe Sam wasn't a complete bad guy after all. Maybe she was just trying to keep her people from getting hurt.

Jules continued earnestly, "But I swear, Beau, if I really thought it was too risky, I wouldn't have come. But I knew I had to do something—back at the theater, I made you a promise. After I completely smashed it and broke your trust, I...just had to come make things right."

I stared back at her, at the guilt in her face. I didn't want her to feel that way. "I know it's not really you," I said with a sigh. "I know there's something more going on that you can't help. I get it."

She shook her head. "I'm not deserting you," she insisted. "I'm still going to try to do what I can to be here whenever you need me."

She suddenly grinned. It wasn't the carefree grin I knew so well, or the new, reckless grin that was Samantha's, but an odd mix between the two. "But seriously, Beau. It would go a long way if you could just figure it out. This talking in circles is driving me crazy."

I felt myself grin back weakly. "You and me both."

"Try," she insisted again. "Put in an honest effort. And—I'll try to see you again soon, even though they'll try to talk me out of it."

"Don't pay attention to them," I said fervently, though I didn't feel much hope—Sam was in control.

Jules gave me a half-smile, with just a touch of hopelessness. But then her expression brightened a little as she added, "Come and tell me as soon as you figure it out. That will make things a lot easier."

However, the smile slipped again, and her brow clouded. "Unless..." she added, almost to herself. Her head was bent, and she gazed up at me, her eyes suddenly guarded. "Of course, only if you want to."

"Yeah, I'll come," I said, surprised. "Once I have it figured out, of course I will."

"Don't make promises," Jules warned me, backing toward the window, her eyes suddenly hard. "Not until you know. You might change your mind."

I tried to read the expression in her eyes, to decipher the meaning there, but I couldn't.

Jules glanced back at the window, eyes not meeting mine. "Look, I've got to go. Just—promise me something."

I nodded slowly. "Anything."

Jules still wasn't looking at me. "If you figure it out, and you decide...you decide not to come. Call me. At least let me know if it's like that."

"Of course I won't—"

She put up a finger to silence me. "No promises," she said again. "Just let me know, okay?"

She turned her back on me, placing both hands on the open window.

I scrambled forward, seizing her by the shoulder. "No way. You are absolutely not going out that way. Just use the front door, Charlie won't catch you."

Jules shook me off and gave a hard laugh. She turned back a moment to grin at me, and the expression was once again that strange hybrid, part my old Jules, part the new bitter, sarcastic Jules. "Don't worry about me. I'm a freak of nature, remember?"

She turned her back on me, then once again planted both hands on the sides of the windows as though to vault herself out. I was contemplating seizing her around the waist and dragging her forcibly back into the room, but then she paused. Her grin faded into a more serious expression, and she turned to look back at me over her shoulder. Her eyes seemed to burn with a look I didn't understand. It was almost gentle, but churning with an undercurrent of sudden desperation.

Her hands dropped from the window, and she turned back to face me for a moment.

Then, before I could react, her arms were suddenly around me. They held me fiercely—she was stronger than I remembered, so strong for a moment I felt like my lungs were being crushed. She buried her face in my neck, breathing in deeply.

Then she abruptly pulled away from me, and her eyes were a little red.

"Get some sleep," she said in a low, husky voice. "You need to get your head in the game and figure this out. You've got to know. You've got to understand."

She turned away from me again, and I begged feebly, "The door?"

She laughed a little, then sighed. Reluctantly she turned from the window and crossed to my door without a sound, disappearing through it. I listened, waiting for her to hit the squeaky step on the stairs, but there was no sound.

I sank back down onto my bed, falling over onto my back, my head spinning. So much to think about. So much that didn't make any sense. But before I could get my mind to work much further, the exhaustion hit me once again like a physical force, overtaking me, and before I knew it, I had slipped into unconsciousness.

I dreamed as I usually did. The forest once again surrounded me, eery and mysterious, thick greenery on every side. But I quickly realized this wasn't the same dream I'd had a thousand times. This was different, yet still familiar.

Unlike my usual dream, I didn't seem to be searching for anything, and the usual earthy smell of the forest was flavored with the smell of ocean brine. Even though the forest was still dark, it wasn't the darkness of a new moon, but rather the thick leaves and branches seemed simply to block the bright light of the sky above.

This was not the dark forest behind my house, but the forest of La Push, near the beach. I knew then if I found the beach, I'd be able to see the sun, and I found myself hurrying forward, toward the faint splash of waves in the distance.

Jules was suddenly there, right beside me. She grabbed my hand, trying to draw me back, back toward the blackest part of the forest.

"What's wrong?" I called back, alarmed. As I turned to look right at her, I saw she was no longer the bitter, angry Jules I'd come to know in the last day, but the Jules back from when we had first met at the beach, young, girlish, her satin black hair pulled back into the familiar ponytail at the back of her neck. Her eyes were wide with terror. She yanked hard on my hand, but I didn't want to go—I didn't want to go away from the light.

"Run, Beau," she whispered. "You have to run!"

I froze where I was as a sharp stab of déjà vu seemed to cut through the haze of the dream. I nearly woke up then, but I held on. I knew suddenly what the rest of the dream would bring, because I had had this dream before. Long ago, in another life. This was the dream I'd had the night following that talk with Jules, when I first knew in my gut what Edythe and the Cullens really were.

I watched the dream unfold, waiting for the events of that time to replay again. A light was coming toward me from the direction of the beach. In a moment, Edythe would step through the trees, glorious, beautiful, in the black dress with the plunging neckline, her skin faintly glowing, her eyes black and dangerous. She would smile softly, reassuringly, to reveal rows of pointed teeth as she beckoned me toward her...

But that was later. Something else happened first.

Jules let go of my hand and she whimpered. Her entire body was trembling, going into convulsions, and she fell to her knees, writhing.

"Jules!" I shouted, my face going white. But before I could reach for her, she had vanished.

In her place was an enormous, red-brown wolf with dark, intelligent eyes. Only now the dream changed from what it had been so long ago—this was not the same wolf from that other dream, but the rust-colored wolf from the meadow, just a week ago. This wolf was enormous, as big as a bear, and it looked at me intently, trying to tell me something with its dark eyes. I knew those eyes, so filled with human emotion—as well as I knew any.

I awoke with a jolt, drenched from head to toe in cold sweat.

I sat up, then let my head fall into my hands as Jules's words from that day an age ago replayed themselves in my mind.

" _Well, there are lots of legends...One claims that we descended from the wolves, and that the wolves are our sisters still..."_

My head dropped a centimeter, my fingers tightening around fistfuls of my hair.

" _You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf—not the wolf, but the wolves that turn into people, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves."_

My breathing was erratic. The thoughts in my head were spinning out of control. I suddenly raised my eyes, staring straight ahead into the pale darkness.

"Werewolf," I whispered.

I wanted to laugh aloud. Not a happy laugh, but the hysterical kind, the kind you laughed when you suddenly realize that nothing in the world was what you thought it was, and there wasn't a shred of sanity or truth anywhere to stand on.

 _What's the big deal?_ said a voice in the back of my mind. _You know vampires are real, don't you? You accepted that easily enough. So why all the drama now?_

I had accepted the existence of vampires. But that—that was different. Because I'd always known there was something different about Edythe. Something above and beyond the ordinary and mundane. I would have been more surprised to find out she was a regular human.

But Jules—Jules was my best friend. She was supposed to be a part of _my_ world. The anchor, the spot of light in what was otherwise a grim, dull world of no color. And all along—she had never been a part of my world at all.

In my head, I felt everything suddenly change, shifting around and rearranging itself to fit with this new reality, everything that had meant one thing before, transforming itself to mean something else. There was no cult, no secret society of Amazon warriors, or even black magic. They were mythical creatures of the same ilk as vampires—werewolves.

I leaped out of bed, pulling on some clothes as fast as I could, then raced down the stairs. I had to get to La Push, right now. I had to see Jules, and—and make sure I hadn't completely lost my mind.

I nearly barreled into Charlie on the way to the front door.

"Where are you going?" he asked, nearly as surprised to see me as I was to see him. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Yeah," I said shortly, "I'm going to see Jules."

Charlie's brow furrowed into a frown. "I thought you two were—"

"Yeah, we had a fight," I said quickly. "But I've got to see her, right now."

Charlie still didn't look entirely convinced. "Listen, kid...At this time of day, I don't know if Bonnie would appreciate that." He said Bonnie's name with a bit of stiffness. "Julie is probably still asleep. You have to think about what's appropriate."

"I really have to go, Dad," I said desperately.

He studied my face, and I knew he was still thinking about my dead expression from last night. He sighed.

"Go, then," he muttered, looking away and turning toward the kitchen. "Do what you have to do, kid."

I sagged with relief and snagged my coat from the rack by the door. "Thanks, Dad."

However, before I had the door open, Charlie turned back to me, frowning with sudden concern. For a minute I was worried he'd changed his mind, but he only said, "Don't make any stops along the way over. All right, Beau? No last-minute hikes."

I paused, bewildered enough by this seemingly random bit of advice to be distracted for a moment. "Why not?"

He shook his head. "It's those wolves again. There was another attack, close to the resort by the hot springs. We had a witness this time. A middle-aged couple were on their way up, and the man just stepped a few dozen yards from the road, out of sight for just a minute—when his wife went to see where he was, she saw the monster, a big gray one."

My stomach plunged and I had to grip the frame of the door to stay on my feet.

"A wolf...attacked him?" I said in a low, stunned voice.

"He's gone," said Charlie, mouth set in a solemn line. "All that was left was a little blood, just like the other incidents. This is too much—The rangers have gathered up some volunteers, and they're heading out with shotguns. Someone's scraped together some reward money, if they can take down any of them. Something has to be done."

"They're hunting the wolves?" I said, my voice low and hoarse.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, there's not a lot else we can do. Though I do worry about that much firepower in the forest, sometimes when people get overexcited, accidents happen..."

I couldn't speak. My throat had closed. A realization was beginning to seep through me like a poison, sinking into every crevice of my brain. The missing hikers. The blood and the paw prints. I had forgotten that—I had realized part of the truth, but that detail had slipped by me.

"I've got to go now," said Charlie. "I'll see you later. Tell me how it goes down at La Push."

I blinked and suddenly noticed that Charlie had his gun strapped to his waist and was wearing his hiking boots.

I felt my palms break out in a cold sweat.

"Dad..." I began, my voice coming out as little more than a croak. "You're not going out with the rangers, are you? To track down the wolves?"

"I've got to help, kid. People are disappearing."

I felt my hand shoot out, seizing him by the shoulder of his jacket.

I had never grabbed my dad this way, like I was physically trying to force him to do something, and he turned to give me a startled look.

"Beau?" he said cautiously.

"Don't go, Dad," I said, my voice shaking in spite of my best efforts to sound calm and reasonable. "There are plenty of people out there already, aren't there? Stay in today."

He looked at me for a second with wary concern, then shook his head. "This is part of my job, Beau. I've got to go."

"It sounds dangerous out there," I said, again trying to keep my voice steady, but it cracked on the last word.

"I'll be fine," he said, slapping my shoulder lightly. "We'll be in groups—those hikers we've lost so far were picked off in ones and twos. And if you're going to La Push to get things ironed out, then you've got bigger things to worry about than your old man."

I hesitated. And I knew there was absolutely nothing I could say to stop him from going, short of having some kind of seizure and getting myself landed in the hospital. And even then, Chief Swan's sense of duty would probably have him out there eventually.

Charlie went to the door, and held it open for me. "You going?" he asked.

My eyes dropped to the floor as my powerlessness crashed down on me. "Maybe...Maybe it is too early. Maybe I'll just wait a little while."

"That sounds like a good idea," Charlie said, though he continued to eye me with some concern before he stepped out into the rain, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, I staggered slightly, falling against the nearest wall and sliding to the floor.

Charlie was going out to help hunt down the wolves. And among those wolves was my best friend. My thoughts spun in incoherent circles. I had to warn her, and her friends, before they got killed.

Or...should I?

Jules's words from the day before murmured at the back of my mind. _"I'm not what I was before...I'm no good to be your friend, or anything else."_

This was what she had meant. When she and Sam and the others had become werewolves, they'd abandoned their humanity. They hunted humans like vampires did, any innocent hiker they could pick off the trail.

 _What about Charlie?_ I wondered. What if the pack ran into him while they were out on one of their hunts? Would they kill him just the same?

I bent my head, covering my mouth as I felt bile rise in my throat. I couldn't take it. Not my dad. Not him. And who else was out there hunting right now? Allen's dad? McKayla's? So far, Jules and the others had only been picking off strangers, but it was only a matter of time. And what did it matter, if they'd only killed people we didn't know? It didn't change the fact that innocent people were dead.

My mind flashed back then, to a place I usually avoided letting it go. Memories of the Cullens, and their chosen way of life. Vegetarians, they'd called themselves. Denying themselves, fighting their natural instincts. They had chosen something different for themselves.

But Jules and the rest had chosen something different. Samantha was no Carine, and she had led the rest down this path. They were monsters, true monsters—Jules included.

Maybe it wouldn't be right for me to warn them of anything. Maybe it was my responsibility to sit back, and let things take their course.

The Cullens had made their choice, and so had the wolves. Now, it was my turn.

* * *

A/N: Ah, we're finally getting into the later chapters now. I find as I get further into a project, I generally get progressively more enthusiastic about it. (In high school, I remember people talking about getting senioritis their last year, or losing motivation toward the last couple of weeks of school. But weirdly, a lot of the time I was the opposite...I got more ambitious when the end was finally in sight. x3)

Thanks so much for all your comments last chapter—seriously, you guys make my day. (And I'm glad quite a few of you didn't mind too much my decision about the imprinting.) If you have a minute, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you next chapter!

Posted 3/22/16


	14. Monster

A/N: Hey! I meant to get to this last week, but then I got busy with a few things...There's a lot to be done on this project, and I feel like I've been trying to work on everything all at once lately. xD But I made some important strides forward.

Thank you all for your comments last chapter—hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 13: Monster

The dawn hadn't yet broken over the horizon when I got in my truck and headed down the road to La Push. A picture I couldn't seem to shake kept going through my mind, deciding me once and for all what I had to do.

A rust-colored wolf, surrounded on all sides by rifles and shotguns. The deafening sound of gunfire, and a heavy thud as it fell. A pool of blood.

I gripped the steering wheel. I had to warn Jules. Maybe if it had been anyone else, I could have holed myself up in my house and just let the chips fall where they would, but Jules—I just couldn't. The images in my head had me nearly paralyzed with fear.

Even so, I'd already drawn the line in my mind. I would warn her, and by extension, her friends—no, _pack_ —but I couldn't go along with or ignore what they were doing. Jules had said she wasn't good to be my friend, that I might not want to see her again, and even though the thought set the empty hole in my chest to burning, I knew her words now had been prophetic. This would indeed be our last meeting. Staying friends while turning a blind eye, just because the people were people we didn't know—that would make me every bit as guilty, every bit of a monster, as she was.

I knew I could have just called as Jules had told me to, but Jules was simply too important to me for me to take the weasel's way out. This kind of conversation was the kind that had to be done in person.

I pulled up to the Blacks' house, right to the spot I had taken a hundred times. It was still early, but I wasn't feeling particularly sensitive to decorum right now, and I slammed the truck door loudly before I strode to the door. I hammered on the front so hard I felt the sound reverberate through the walls.

"Come in," called a muffled voice. Bonnie.

The door was unlocked, and I went in.

Bonnie was in her chair in the kitchen, her gray hair hanging loosely around her face, not yet pulled back in its usual braid. As her eyes fell on me, they widened briefly, before her expression settled into the poker face I was quickly becoming familiar with.

"Good morning, Beau," she said lightly. "You're certainly up and about early."

"Hey, Bonnie," I said, struggling to keep my voice polite. "I just needed to talk to Jules about something—you know where I might find her?"

Bonnie's expression gave nothing away. "I really don't know," she lied, without so much as a flicker.

My patience was about used up by now. "You know where Charlie is right now?" I said suddenly, my voice a little too loud in the early-morning quiet.

Bonnie regarded me cautiously. "No," she said. "Should I?"

I glared at her. "He and half the other people in this town are all out in the woods with guns, hunting giant wolves. That mean anything to you?"

Bonnie's face flickered in something like astonishment, then again went blank.

"So," I said in a low, dangerous voice, "I'd really like to talk to Jules about that, _if_ you don't mind."

Bonnie seemed to consider that for a long moment. At last she said, "She's probably still asleep. She's been out late quite a bit lately. I wouldn't wake her up if I were you. Maybe give it awhile."

I wasn't listening however, and I was through the room and into the hallway before Bonnie had finished talking.

The yard-long hallway only had one door, and as I'd been to Jules's tiny, closet-sized room once before, I didn't have trouble finding it. I probably should have had more qualms about entering a girl's room uninvited, especially when she was still asleep, but either because we'd spent so much time together she almost could pass as my sister, or I was still too wound up thinking about things that made little things like this seem not quite so important, I couldn't bring myself to care much.

I threw open the door so hard it hit the side wall with a bang, and I announced, "Jules, we have to talk."

Inside, the room was dark, and there was no response. Hesitantly, I stepped inside, looking tentatively around, and for a moment I was sure Bonnie had been having me on, and Jules wasn't here after all.

Then my eyes adjusted a little, and they came to rest on Jules's lanky figure, which was sprawled out across her bed. The bed was so small and her form so long that her shins hung off the end. She was still dressed in the same black biking shorts and too-small sleeveless shirt from just a few hours ago, and the blankets had been pushed all the way to the side, even though the air was a bit chilly. She was still fast asleep, unperturbed by the ruckus I had made.

I studied her face, and I realized it looked much different than when she was awake. Her face looked more like the Jules I knew before all this had happened, the anger lines smoothed out, almost peaceful. I hadn't noticed before, but there were dark circles under her eyes. She looked younger than she did awake—young, and incredibly weary.

My eyes flickered about the familiar room, and I noticed it was the same as it had been when I had been in here before, the same posters of fast cars, the same dissection of some car engine. Remnants of the Jules I had known in another life.

Slowly, I backed out of the room, quietly closing the door behind me. She was tired. She ought to have her rest.

Bonnie watched me, gaze inquisitive yet also guarded, as I emerged back into the front room.

"She should get to sleep awhile longer," I muttered.

Bonnie nodded slowly, never taking her eyes from me. I suddenly wondered what Bonnie thought of all this—the wolf thing. Obviously it didn't seem to bother her much. She had been doing her best to help cover it up from the beginning, did everything she could to protect and defend Sam. Maybe she considered family and tribe more important than the lives of a few random hikers.

Bonnie was looking at me with questions in her dark eyes, but she said nothing.

I headed toward the door. "I'll be down at the beach," I said. "When she wakes up, could you tell her I'm waiting for her?"

"Sure, sure," she said evenly. "No problem."

I wasn't sure I trusted her, but I figured it was better than sitting in the front room the entire time, in awkward silence.

I drove the truck down to First Beach, and parked it in the empty dirt lot. It was still dark out, the gloomy predawn of a cloudy day, and it was hard to see as I made my way through the weeds to the sandy shoreline. The rain had stopped, but it was colder up here, with the wind whipping off the black water.

I headed up the beach toward the north seawall, and was a little surprised when I found what I was looking for before I'd even realized I was looking for it.

A great driftwood tree loomed up in the darkness, its bone-white surface almost glowing in the feeble predawn light, the roots twisted every which way like the tentacles of a great sea monster.

I couldn't be totally sure it was the same tree Jules and I had sat on when she had first told me the Quileute legends, but somehow I thought it was. I sat down where I'd sat before, and stared out over the black sea.

When I'd come here, I'd made up my mind to tell her it was off. We couldn't be friends anymore, not while she and her fellow werewolves were doing what they were doing. But as soon as I'd seen her face, I knew that if I did say any of that, it would be a lie. Jules was my friend, and nothing she could do would ever change that. I was still revolted by the things she was doing—I couldn't be like Bonnie, and accept it all just like that, and even be a party to it—but I just couldn't find it in me to turn away completely, to write her off as just a monster.

When I saw her sleeping peacefully in her room, all the old trinkets and reminders of the things she loved, the thought of her being hurt in any way was agony. No matter what she did, she was my friend, and I wanted— _needed_ her to be safe, no matter how illogical the thought was. I suppose it just went to show—once you loved someone, it was just impossible to be logical anymore.

I sat where I was a long time, thinking in circles, my mind going again and again over her peaceful, exhausted features, and trying to figure out how to keep her from getting hurt, as the sky slowly turned from black to gray.

"Hey, Beau."

Jules's quiet, almost shy voice came from the darkness, surprisingly close, and it made me jump a little. I'd been listening for the sound of her footsteps on the rocks. I turned to see her making her way toward me, her tall, slender yet strong frame silhouetted against the coming sunrise.

"Jules?"

She came to a stop several paces away, her fingers interlocking in front of her and fidgeting with her thumbs.

"My mom said you came by. Guess you figured it out, huh? That was faster than I thought."

"Yeah," I said quietly. "I remember the right story now."

It was silent for a long moment, but for the gentle sound of the waves against the sand. Though it was still too dark to see well, Jules studied my face carefully, and I watched as her expression hardened.

"You could have just called," she said viciously, half turning away.

I nodded. "I know."

Jules started to pace along the rocks, making no sound on the uneven stones.

"Why did you even bother to come?" she demanded.

I shrugged, my expression unchanged. "I thought it would be better that way."

She sneered with derision. "Oh yeah, much better."

"Jules, you really need to watch out," I said. "In the forest, Charlie told me—"

"That they've rounded up a big mess of rangers and hunters to shoot us dead? Ha, don't worry, we know all about that. Not much goes on in the forest we don't know about."

"Don't shrug it off," I warned. "You might be pretty tough, but they've got rifles and shotguns, and I wouldn't be at all surprised if there are traps and worse."

Jules waved a hand dismissively, though she didn't slow her pacing. "They're no danger to us. If anything, those poor idiots are the ones who need to watch out. They think going out in groups will protect them, but before long, some of them will end up just like those hikers."

I stared at her, shocked by the harshness in her voice. Maybe some part of me had held out hope—not hope that she didn't know what was going on, but at least that she hated it as much as I did. But she was so cold. So unconcerned—like they deserved what they got. It was too much.

I was suddenly on my feet. Jules paused in her walk, watching me with an unreadable expression. I took a step toward her. Although she was almost as tall as I was, I straightened to my full height, using every inch I had on her as I got in her face.

"You," I hissed though clenched teeth. "You _are_ a monster—I didn't want to believe it, but you don't even care at all, do you? My dad is one of those idiots out there!"

Her face went ashen for a moment, then she came back, more ferocious than ever.

"You think we don't know that?" she seethed. Her fists were clenched at her sides, her nose barely a centimeter from mine, so all I could see were her eyes, black as onyx in the darkness. "What else are we supposed to do? We're doing our best with what we have! We can't do anymore!"

"Yeah?" I said, voice rising, nearly to a shout. "Well, maybe you could try _not_ being a werewolf. That would be something."

"You just don't get it," she spat. " _I don't have a freaking choice._ You don't just hit a switch and turn it off and on whenever you want."

She was breathing heavily, her back slightly bent, and she glared up at me with fury, but her next words came out as a whisper.

"You know what? You're a hypocrite, Beau," she hissed. "You didn't care at all when you found out what _she_ was, did you? What's wrong? I'm just not the right kind of monster for you, is that it?" Her entire body was quivering, her eyes black with something like hatred.

I was startled when I suddenly heard Edythe's voice at the back of my mind. _"Be careful, Beau,"_ she said softly. _"Don't say anything more to upset her. You have to calm her down."_

I really didn't know why I was hearing the voice now, again when there wasn't any danger. I wasn't afraid of Jules doing anything to me. Even so, normally, I would do just about anything for that voice.

However, this time, I ignored her.

Again stretching up to my fullest height, I took a breath, then screamed in her face.

" _You kill people!_ "

Silence. Jules's fury had suddenly vanished, and she stared at me, her face slack with astonishment. "I...I what?" she said blankly.

I was breathing hard. "Kill people," I repeated, glaring. "I don't care what you are, I don't care if you turn into a wolf or a dragon or cockroach, but how can I be around someone who's picking off hikers off the trail like it's nothing? I don't want to lose you as a friend, Jules, I don't, but something has got to change, or I can't come back here again. Not when your next meal could be Charlie."

"Hold it," Jules said, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me. And to my shock, I saw a slow smile spreading across her face. "Are you saying..."

She suddenly laughed aloud, sounding almost giddy, and she let go of me, backing up a few steps. "Gosh, Beau, you really had me for a minute. I really thought...I mean..."

I was scowling, watching her euphoria with disapproval. Maybe the weird, unexplained mood swings were part of the werewolf thing.

"Hey," I said.

Jules paused in a kind of half-step dance, then swung around to face me. She was still grinning like a maniac.

"So let me get this straight," she said. "The fact that I'm, you know, a werewolf, doesn't matter in the slightest to you. You're so cheesed off because I run around killing people."

I was definitely irritated now. "No, I don't care you're a werewolf, obviously you should know that because you know—well, you know what I was up to before this. Obviously, since you keep needling me about it. But that doesn't take care of the problem here, does it?"

Jules laughed again, a pure, happy sound that almost sounded like her old self. She suddenly threw her arms around me, crushing the air from my lungs. I tried to push her off, but it was like trying to push off a bear, and she didn't even seem to notice my efforts. Then she pulled away abruptly, holding my shoulders at arm's length.

"You moron," she said, still grinning. "We haven't been killing people."

I stared back at her, and it was my turn to look blank. "You haven't?"

"No," she said fervently, shaking her head. "Furthest thing from it."

I stared into her face, and as I looked into her dark eyes, I knew she was telling the truth. I felt a slow smile spread across my face. I automatically reached out and took her hand.

Jules smiled up at me, and she rubbed the back of my hand with her thumb. "Sorry for calling you a hypocrite."

"Sorry for calling you a monster."

She laughed.

We stood like that for a minute. "So," I said finally. "You aren't killing people. Samantha and the others either?"

She shook her head, and her smile was bright and cheerful now. "No, no. We've been out trying to _save_ the hikers—I told you before, didn't I? Samantha and her people think of themselves kind of like police. They patrol the reservation, and try to keep people safe. They're protectors—we're protectors. The reason people think it's us is that we rush in to help, but we so far we've always gotten there a little too late."

I frowned slightly at that. "Then what _is_ happening to the hikers? If it's not you guys...Don't tell me there's really a bear out there."

"No, we don't hunt bears." Jules looked me square in the eye. "Our prey aren't normal animals, like deer or big cats. We exist to protect people from one thing, and one thing only."

I stared back at her for a moment. Then the realization hit me like a ten ton truck, and the color drained from my face. "A vampire," I whispered. "That's what's been getting them."

Jules nodded. "I sort of thought you of all people would have already guessed that part."

I stared at her, my face frozen with horror. "Lauren," I said numbly. "She's still around, isn't she?"

Jules cocked her head, raising an eyebrow.

I tried to get my thoughts in order so I could explain. "You should know who she is, you saw her once. You remember...in the meadow. You drove her off..." My eyebrows rose with amazement as the events began to all tie together. Of course, Jules and her pack had been there in the meadow, and they'd chased Lauren away to save me.

"Ahh," said Jules, drawing out the word with satisfaction. "Oh yeah, I know who you mean now. That busty leech with the black hair."

I felt a stir of panic in my chest as I realized just how close Jules had come to Lauren. How easy it would have been for her to kill Jules right then and there—I remembered how at the time I'd been hoping Lauren would do exactly that, and I shuddered.

"She's the one," I said quietly. "She's the one who's been picking off the hikers."

Jules snorted. "Not likely. I mean, maybe she got a few before that, but she's not going to be killing any humans anytime soon. We took care of her."

I stared at her, dumbfounded. "You—You what?"

Jules grinned with relish. "We tore her to shreds, limb from limb. It was so fast, she didn't even have time to scream—I sort of regretted that, after what she about did to you. The five of us on one, she didn't stand a chance."

I could only stare at her, mouthing wordlessly for a moment. "You...killed her? Lauren is dead?"

She nodded, still grinning, then she suddenly frowned as she took in the stunned look on my face and the faintness of my voice.

"Hold it," she said. "You aren't seriously going to count that as killing, are you? You can't be that much of a bloodsucker-lover. Okay, maybe you were standing there talking to her like you knew her, but she was coming after you, I was positive." She was looking a little worried now, and the expression quickly turned to agitation. She added defensively, "She was probably out there killing hikers and stuff."

I suddenly laughed, and I felt my knees go weak with relief. I staggered to the piece of driftwood and sat down, pressing a hand to my head. "She's dead," I repeated in wonder. "Oh yeah, she was definitely about to kill me, no doubt about that. I've been waiting every day for her to come busting into my house and finish me off, and the whole time I was just praying she'd just take me and leave Charlie alone. I can't believe it. You got her. I've been so freaked out, I've barely slept."

Jules came to sit beside me. She gripped my hand. "Killing vampires is what we do," she said. "Yeah, she's dead. More than dead. You'll never have to worry about her again."

I nodded, then suddenly frowned slightly. "Yesterday, though, you said it wasn't safe. I sort of thought that meant Sam knew a vampire might be coming for me. What was that about?"

Jules hesitated. "No. When I said that, I was talking about me." She glanced down. "Not my safety—yours. Being around me. When I get...angry...that's what triggers the change. It can happen when I don't meant it to. And if you're standing too close...well, you wouldn't be the first person to get hurt that way."

I remembered the way Jules's face would contort, like an angry animal, and the way she convulsed all over.

She sighed. "I'm trying to learn to keep a better hold on myself. Like Sam does. I do my best—I kept telling myself, both yesterday and today, that I'm not going to get worked up no matter what you say, but then I get in the moment and it's just so hard to control. I guess it's just because I'm so new. There are times when I just feel like I'm on the edge, all the time, just a hair-trigger away from exploding."

She stared off across the water for a moment, thoughtful, and I thought too.

"Huh," I said at last. "So you don't need a full moon or anything?"

She snorted. "Beau, if you go by Hollywood all the time, you're going to be wrong more often than you'll be right."

I nodded, knowing only too well how true that probably was. However, my face turned serious as I suddenly remembered.

"Lauren's dead," I said. "But murders are still going on. Which means there's another vampire out there."

Jules was serious, too. "Yeah. This isn't over, not by a long shot."

Her brow furrowed with frustration, and her eyes seemed to darken. "There were two of them. We got the female—Lauren, or whatever you said her name is—but there was another. We really hoped her mate would come straight at us, looking for a fight. In all the legends, if there's one way to tick off one of their kind, it's by killing the mate. But he just kept on running, coming back in, then slipping away again. He acts like he's testing our defenses—like there's something he really wants on our land, and he's trying to get close enough to get it. But we have no idea what it is."

I couldn't respond. I felt the blood drain from my face as I realized at least one of the waking nightmares I had dreaded for the past few weeks had really come true.

Victor was here, killing hikers in the woods. And he was here for me.

I suddenly found myself staggering to my feet, though I had no idea what I meant to do or where I meant to go. Where could I run? Where could I hide? Nowhere.

The sudden movement made my head spin, and I felt Jules stand up beside me, grabbing my arm to steady it.

"Hey," she said, looking alarmed. "Are you okay, Beau? What's wrong?"

I turned vaguely to look down at her. "Victor," I said numbly.

Jules stared up at me for a second. Then was a gleam in her eye. "Victor," she repeated with some excitement. "Is that his name? You know him, too? Do you have any idea what he's after?"

I sunk back down onto the driftwood, letting my head bow with a sudden weight. "Yeah," I said heavily. "You could say I know him a little." I drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "Fact is, Jules, Lauren wasn't his mate. They were just friends, ran in the same coven for awhile. He had someone else."

I lifted my head to look Jules in the eye. "His mate has been dead for a while. And what he's after is me."

Jules stared back at me for a long minute. Then she swiftly dropped down to a crouch in front of me, bringing us to eye level.

"How do you know that?" she asked urgently, one hand gripping my arm. "This is very important, Beau. What do you know?"

I stared down into her face, without looking away. "Do you remember last spring?" I said. "When I was in the hospital?"

Jules nodded slowly, uncertainly.

"I didn't fall down the stairs," I continued. "It was a vampire who did that to me. Joss. She was a tracker, who lived for the thrill of the hunt. She was Victor's mate—and Edythe killed her. Or at least, the others killed her on Edythe's behalf."

Jules nodded slowly, and I could see it all coming together in her mind. "Now he wants to kill you, as revenge. Because you were her mate."

I nodded, focusing hard on one of the white branches of the driftwood. "That's what Lauren told me."

I suddenly let out a harsh, bitter laugh that made Jules turn her head to stare up at me again. "The ironic thing is that he doesn't know—he doesn't know I don't make much of a revenge, because I got dumped."

Jules slowly straightened, looking down at me. She was frowning, as though trying to decipher my expression. At last she said, "Is that the reason? Is that why they left?"

I stared at the ground. "I'm just a boring, ordinary human," I said in a low voice. "Of course I could never be her real...Of course not."

Jules was suddenly angry. "Is that what she told you?"

I stared at the sand. "Please, Jules," I said in a low voice. "I'd rather not talk about this."

"I'm asking you if that—" Jules inserted an incredibly rude word "—told you you're too boring and ordinary for her."

I looked up at her, my brow tense, my face pleading. Then my eyes dropped back to the sand. "Please, Jules. I can't talk about this. It's not what you think—don't blame her."

Jules swore softly under her breath, then sighed and nodded once. "Okay," she said. "Never mind that, then. The point is, this is exactly what we needed to know. I've got to tell Sam and the others as soon as possible."

Jules offered me a hand and after a second, I took it, allowing her to pull me to my feet. She turned and began walking swiftly back to my truck, towing me along behind her.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Not sure yet," she admitted. "I'm going to try to call a meeting and Sam will probably name a place."

We reached the truck and she suddenly stopped walking, turning back to face me. "Just wait here a minute, okay? I'll be right back."

She let go of my hand, but I kept my grip on hers a moment longer. "Where are you going?" I asked, and I could feel something like desperation prickling at the front of my forehead.

She leaned up and kissed me on the cheek. "Be back soon," she promised in my ear, then she turned and sprinted back across the parking lot.

"Hey—" I called after her, but before I could get the words out, she had already disappeared into the forest.

I slumped back against the truck, and it suddenly occurred to me that it wasn't a good time to be left alone. I could feel overriding fear of Victor—Victor, who I now knew for certain was closer to us than I could have guessed—bubbling at the base of my skull. I dragged myself up into the cab of the truck, then shut the door hard, shoving down all the locks. I didn't feel any better.

I had been sitting in the truck for about two minutes, stewing over my imminent demise, when I heard a sharp wrap on the window. I jumped about a mile before I turned and realized it was Jules, already back. I unlocked the door for her, though my hands were shaking.

"Wow," said Jules, eying my expression. "Look at that. You're white as a ghost. Are you really that scared?"

I gritted my teeth. "Let's just say I know what vampires are capable of."

Jules laughed as she got in on the passenger's side. "Relax, we've got it covered. You're totally safe, Beau, long as you're with us. We'll keep Charlie safe, too, while we're at it—we've been keeping an eye on his house, you know, just in case."

I shook my head. "The idea of you catching up with Victor is part of the problem."

She snorted. "Have some more faith in us than that. Killing him once we find him will be nothing, it's _finding_ him that's the problem. What, you think we can't handle one little leech because we're a bunch of girls? Is that it?"

I rolled my eyes and didn't answer. Leave it to Jules to turn a healthy fear of vampires into some sexist offense.

Trying to distract myself, I turned to her. "So," I said. "Where exactly did you go just now?"

Jules hesitated.

"Hey," I said. "I thought once I guessed the secret, you could tell me anything."

Jules shook her head. "I know, it's not that I can't tell you. It's just—a bit weird, is all."

I raised an eyebrow.

She grinned, looking sheepish. "But, guess you're used to weird by now. But some things are just _weird_ weird."

I rolled my eyes. "This might come as a shock, but I have a little experience with _weird_ weird, too."

Jules laughed, though she still looked uncomfortable. "Okay, so I just went and turned wolf, so I could get in touch with the others. It's like this—when we...change, we can hear each other's thoughts. Everyone in the pack. We have this kind of mental connection, which really helps us when we hunt, but honestly, most of the time it's just plain embarrassing. It gives us a way to communicate, even when we're apart and have no idea where the others are, like now."

I nodded. "That's what you meant last night, when you said you would tell Samantha. You just couldn't _not_ tell her."

Jules sighed. "Yeah, that is what I meant." She eyed me curiously. "Wow, you're already used to it. Took me longer than that. I was totally freaked out when I found out at first."

I shrugged slightly. "You're not the first one I've met who could do that. And that one was weirder, because it was _everybody's_ thoughts, not just a few members of a pack."

Jules gave me a strange look. "You know someone else who can read minds?" Then a look of understanding washed across her face and she froze. "Are you saying..." she began slowly. "Your bloodsuckers..."

I frowned slightly. I didn't like when she referred to the Cullens that way, or used any of her other colorful nicknames, but I let it go.

I shook my head. "Just one. Just...Just Edythe."

The sound of the name came out uncertainly, and I looked away quickly, as the sharp pain went like a dagger through my chest. However, it wasn't as bad as it had always been before.

"Just one," Jules repeated, frowning deeply, looking disturbed. "One too many. I mean, we all heard the legends about them doing...extra stuff, having extra powers, but I think we all thought those had to be myths. I mean, they're tough enough buggers _without_ that kind of twist."

I nodded. "There were a lot of things I thought were just a myth, too. Like tribeswomen turning into wolves, for instance."

She sighed. "Yeah, I guess nothing's just legend anymore. You'd think we'd just give up trying to figure out the rules of reality. The only rule is that there are no rules."

Jules leaned forward to wrap the dash with her knuckles impatiently. "But, _anyway,_ I think that's enough talk for now. We better get going, or Paula's going to get ticked off. Again. We're meeting at that place we went to ride our bikes that first time."

I started up the truck and carefully pulled back out onto the road.

"So," I said. "When you ran out into the woods just now, you turned into a wolf, so you could talk to Sam?"

I was feeling pretty calm, and it was true that I'd accepted all this, but somehow the thought of Jules actually having turned into a wolf a few minutes ago, and so relatively close by, was a little hard to get my head around.

Jules nodded. "I kept it brief though, and I think I was able to keep from thinking about you. I was afraid if they knew you were involved, Sam would order me not to bring you. I can't go against her word."

I glanced over at her, then stared out the front windshield, frowning deeply. Apparently Samantha wasn't quite what I thought, but I didn't like how much power she seemed to have over Jules. It seemed so wrong, that anyone should be able to take away another person's freewill like that.

"Last night," I said slowly. "When you were trying to explain to me, but couldn't—that was because Sam ordered you not to, wasn't it? She can control you." My voice shook slightly with anger.

Jules shrugged. "Yeah, she's the head of the pack." She grinned a little. "We call her the Alpha female. So basically, whatever she says goes. Course, she doesn't use the power too often, part of what makes her such a good pack leader, but still kind of sucks sometimes." I could tell she was trying to keep her voice light.

"That still doesn't seem right," I said in a low voice.

Jules shook her head. "It's just part of being a wolf. There's nothing we can do about it. And Sam takes it very seriously. She only gives an order when she thinks it's really important."

"Still," I muttered. "Seems wrong."

We stared out the front window in silence for a long minute, until at last Jules said, her voice a touch more serious, "I really admire Sam."

I glanced over at her, and tried to hide my incredulity. "You do? Why?"

Jules shook her head. "All this has been tough on all of us. When I transformed for the first time...let's just say, I was a bit freaked out. No, if I'd still been human, I would have been sobbing and screaming and trying to claw my eyes out all at once. It was—" Jules was half grinning, but then the smile faded, and there was not a trace of humor in her face. Her voice dropped. "...the most horrible thing I've ever experienced in my life."

Jules raised her hands, and stared down at her palms. "It hurt. Nothing made sense—my body wasn't my own. I didn't know what was happening. But Sam—Sam and all the others helped me through. Sam explained what was going on, and even as bad as it was, having someone there to help, to guide me through, was huge. But of all of us that have changed this way, Sam was the first. She had to go through everything we all went through completely alone. No one there to help explain or pull her through."

I glanced away. It had almost been comforting to think of Sam as the bad guy up until now, the one responsible for standing in between Jules and I, but hearing the full story, it was hard not to feel bad. It would take a pretty tough person to go through that, and come out the calm, stoic person Sam seemed to be now.

I shook my head, then looked back over at her. "Think they'll be pissed when they see me?"

Jules grinned. "Without a doubt."

I frowned at her lackadaisical reaction. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm thinking maybe it might be better if we _didn't_ try to set off a entire pack of angry werewolves."

Jules shook her head. "They'll settle down once they realize that this is the chance we've been waiting for. What you know will make a huge difference. Okay, so they know how much you've had to do with vamps and they don't like you much—but really, that just means you have the kind of information we could really use. You're like a deep undercover plant, whose been living among the enemy for years. You know the kinds of things we could never hope to uncover ourselves."

This made me pause. If I was hearing right, Jules was calling me something akin to a spy. Even if I had been collecting that kind of information back then, which I hadn't, I didn't care for this way of looking at things. It made me feel like some kind of traitor.

However, I did want to stop Victor, preferably before he could find me and torture me to death, and even more importantly, before he could do anything to Charlie. My good vampires had left, and so the pack was the only hope of taking Victor down, once and for all.

Jules was still talking. "Like the mind-reading. That's pretty important to know. Think of the huge disadvantage if we tried to go up against someone not knowing about that. Do you think this Victor has any special powers, too?"

I shook my head. "Maybe, but I doubt it. If he did—" I hesitated, looking away, then muttered, "If he did, she would have mentioned it."

Jules looked puzzled. "She?" Then she understood. "Oh, right, you said Edythe's the mind-reader."

I flinched, my knuckles white on the steering wheel, but I concentrated on keeping my eyes on the road, hoping Jules hadn't noticed.

"Sorry," she murmured, studying my expression. "I forgot, you don't like that. When I say the name."

I shook my head. Then I sighed deeply. "I just don't get it," I muttered. "You always seem to know about me...Sometimes I wonder if _you're_ reading _my_ mind."

Jules chuckled at that. "No, I just pay attention."

We were on the little dirt road where Jules had first taught me to ride my motorcycle, and Jules signaled me to pull off. I parked the truck and shut down the engine.

We both sat in the darkness for a minute, staring out the windshield in silence.

"Things still aren't okay for you, are they?" Jules said at last, voice low.

I stared out into the dark forest, not responding at first. Then I nodded slowly.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this," Jules said quietly, almost gently, "but I can't help but think you're better off."

I said nothing, my eyes still staring straight ahead.

Jules continued, "Not just because she's a bloodsucker. But because...I feel like there must be something wrong with her. To do what she did. To you." She paused, then said with some concern, "Beau?"

I realized that without meaning to, I'd raised my clenched fist to my ear, and was pressing it against the side of my head as though trying to shut out the words, my shoulders hunched.

I forced myself to straighten, and lowered my hand. "Sorry," I muttered. "Please, I don't want to talk about this. Okay?"

"Sure," she said, looking away. "Sorry."

I sighed deeply, rubbing the back of my head. "S'okay," I mumbled. If things were different, it might have been nice to finally have someone to talk to about all this. It wasn't Jules's fault I was such a wreck.

Jules suddenly straightened in her seat. "They're here," she said. Let's go."

"Oh," I said, feeling the blood drain from my face. Memories from the meadow had suddenly flooded my mind, images of giant, savage wolves. "Maybe I better wait in the car. You know, in case they're a bit out of humor."

Jules laughed, and stretched out her hand for me to take. "Nice try. But you're the reason we're here."

I swallowed. "Right."

She grinned. "If it makes you feel better, I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

I frowned. "For some reason, I feel like we both just lost a whole lot of points for that."

Jules nodded seriously. "You know, I've been thinking. Maybe we should switch. I'll earn man points, you lady points. Right now you are exuding the damsel-in-distress vibe beautifully."

"Funny," I grumbled, but as Jules, still chortling to herself, turned away from me and pushed open the truck door, I couldn't help but smile a little to myself.

* * *

A/N: And, there's another one. Another step toward the end. (;

In other news, I've finally started in reading Breaking Dawn again. I read all of New Moon, Eclipse, and recently I reread Life and Death, but I'd only read the first few chapters of Breaking Dawn, because the story of a reimagined Breaking Dawn would be, by necessity, completely different. But, I knew there might be a lot of new canonical details there I might want to be aware of... (Let's face it, after six years, or however long it's been, there's no hope I'd remember much.)

When I got to reading about Leah, it suddenly occurred to me that this whole all-female pack thing was actually way more complicated than I realized. xD (There's a reason why, in the original, the wolf-warriors were expected to be all guys.) I guess my life just got a little more difficult. (I've already decided how I'm going to write around it, but expect a lot of unnecessarily complicated writing gymnastics when we get to Eclipse. xD)

Thanks so much for reading, and again for all your wonderful comments last chapter! See you next time~

Posted 4/4/16


	15. Family

A/N: Back again! I admit, I'm worried about this chapter, but then, I guess that's nothing new. x3

Thanks so much for all your wonderful comments last chapter! (It's so great to see people having fun with this.) See you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 14: Family

I kept slightly behind Jules as we went to stand out in front of the truck, and scanned the forest for the other werewolves. I knew Charlie would probably kill me if he knew I was letting a girl go out first into a potentially dangerous situation, but the way I figured it, Jules probably wouldn't be in much actual danger from her own pack. I was.

I squinted into the dark trees across the road, looking for four big wolves to come charging out any moment, but I felt myself relax as I laid eyes on a small group of humanoid figures.

Samantha and the three other members of the pack were all dressed as Jules was dressed, in spandex shorts and sleeveless shirts that clung tightly to their lanky frames. Although all of them were of different builds and heights, there was an odd sense of oneness about them. They all had the same red-brown skin, the same black hair cropped short. They even seemed to move with eerie synchronization. The reminded me of a military unit, and if they'd been dressed in combat fatigues, I wouldn't have questioned it for a second, in spite of how incredibly young some of them looked. Sam, of course, looked the most military of all of them, her back rigidly straight, her hair chopped in a close crew cut.

The group, as one, eyed Jules with cautious curiosity. Then they saw me.

Several hisses of outrage rose from the group, and Samantha fixed Jules with her cool dark eyes.

"Explain yourself, Julie," she said sharply, and though Samantha was only a little older than the others, she had a slightly lower voice, the kind of voice that made people start referring to her as a woman rather than a girl much earlier than any of the others.

Before Jules could answer, one of the other girls shouldered past Sam to the front. This one had a slightly more powerful build than the others, and though she was slender at the waist, she had a vaguely judo physique. Her black hair was slicked up in spikes, and though she had the kind of face that looked like it could be pretty when she was smiling, at the moment it had the faintest resemblance to that of a bull dog.

"You couldn't just stick to the rules for once, could you?" she accused, shaking a fist as if she'd have liked to plant it in Jules face. "The rest of us are out there risking our necks to save those people, fighting for the tribe—and what are you doing? All you care about is living out your little romantic fantasy."

"I brought him here because he can help us," Jules said in a low voice, with forced calm.

The girl's lip curled in a snarl. "Oh yeah, that's just what we need. Bring a big, strong _man_ to take care of the problem, since obviously we couldn't handle it ourselves. No, don't just bring a man, bring a freaking _leech_ -lover, that'll solve everything."

I saw Jules's hands tighten into fists at her side. "You better take that back," she said in a low voice.

The other girl gritted her teeth, and a shudder seemed to ripple down her spine.

"That's enough, Paula," Samantha said sharply. "Control it."

Paula's head was bent, her eyes shut. She breathed deeply in and out, and shook her head, as though trying to shake something off.

"Sheesh," muttered one of the other girls. "Get a grip, girl."

If anything, this only seemed to set Paula off again, and she spun her head to glare at the other girl. " _You_ get a grip, Jaybird. I'm just telling Jules like it is. We're out there looking day and night for that thing hunting people down, and all she can think about is her freaking leech-lover boyfriend."

She turned her head back to look at me, and her nostrils flared, lips curled back from her teeth. She said in a low, dangerous voice, "Slimy leech-lovers are just as bad as the leeches themselves." Her back bent, she took a step forward, like a predator about to spring.

Jules stepped sideways, standing directly in Paula's path, blocking me from view.

That was the last straw.

Paula let out a roar of rage, and she cried, " _See!_ That's where her loyalties lie!" A shudder again ran the length of her entire body, more violent this time, and a coarse growl that sounded nothing like her voice escaped her mouth.

"Paula!" Sam called warningly, but it was too late.

Paula's entire body was vibrating, and she seemed to collapse forward. As she did so, I watched in an instant as her body exploded outward. Dark silver fur erupted from her skin all over her body, which was suddenly the size of a creature that would have made a grizzly bear cower.

It happened so quickly that I barely had time to register what was happening. One moment a furious girl stood there, the next there was a dark wolf. The silver muzzle drew back to reveal a row of sharp teeth, and a second deep growl tore through the air, making my chest vibrate.

I had seen a lot of terrifying things in my time, a lot of terrifying creatures. But this had to rank toward the top. When the enraged dark eyes turned on me, I felt my blood freeze.

I had been so focused on the wolf, that it took me a second to realize that Jules was no longer standing in front of me. I was immediately glad about that—the last thing I wanted was for Jules to be in the way when that thing came barreling at me. Then my eyes flickered and I saw Jules in a lineman's sprint across the road, straight for the beast.

"Jules!" I shouted. "Don't!"

Too late. As I watched, a shiver went down Jules's spine. In mid-stride, she coiled the muscle of one leg and launched herself into the air like a pole-vaulter. I had thought Paula's change was fast, but it was nothing compared to Jules—I watched in shock as her slender, lanky form exploded outward in a mass of russet fur, and when her her feet hit the ground again, there were four of them, padded, and she was tearing toward the massive silver beast, teeth showing in a terrible snarl.

I'd seen big animals fight before on the Discovery channel. Big cats fighting over mates or food. But seeing something on television had not prepared me for what it was like in real life—especially when the animals were bigger than any predator alive on the planet, and one of the fighters was my best friend.

Their teeth flashed at each other's throats, the great sound of their snarls echoing like thunder off the trees.

"Jules!" I shouted again, not sure what to do, but feeling my feet taking me a staggering step forward. I noticed the torn up remnants of a white shoe on the edge of the road, and realized it was Jules's. I wondered what had happened to her other clothes.

My eyes went back up to the fight, and again, I felt one of my feet automatically edge forward.

"Don't move," said a loud, commanding voice from across the road.

My eyes flickered to see Sam standing there, her arms folded, her cool expression unusually severe. "Stay back," she ordered.

I didn't move, just stood there like an idiot. My eyes went back to the fight, and I was a little surprised to see the red wolf was gaining the upper hand. Jules rammed her shoulder into the silver wolf repeatedly, forcing her back off the road and toward the woods.

"I will meet you at Elliot's," Samantha said sharply to the other girls and, kicking off her shoes, took off into the woods after the two fighting wolves. The sound of the snarling and snapping faded as the Jules pushed Paula deeper into the trees.

The two remaining girls had been watching the fight with fascinated stares, and they didn't move until the sound of the fighting abruptly cut off.

One of the girls gave a short, soft little laugh, then started across the road in my direction.

"Hi there, Beau," she said cheerfully, waving. "I don't suppose you remember me."

I was a little thrown by her carefree demeanor. I shook my head, however, and squinted through the gloom at her face. She was tall, and of what I thought was a little slighter build than the others. "Emma?" I guessed. "I mean, Em?"

Her face lit up brightly. "You do remember."

Her eyes flickered along the edge of the road, and she spotted the remains of one of Jules's shoes. She approached and picked it up, sighing. "Well, Bonnie's not going to be happy about this." Em's gaze flickered over to the other girl. "She said this was the last pair she was getting, didn't she, Jay? Looks like Jules will be going barefoot from now on."

"This one looks okay," said Jay, picking another shoe up by its laces. "Paula's, though, they're ribbons." She rolled her eyes. "I keep asking her why she even bothers wearing shoes. I can't tell if this anger management thing she has going on is a wolf thing or a Paula thing. I mean, the rest of us have our moments, but we don't flip out three days out of four."

Emma shrugged, smiling. "Paula is...excitable."

"She's crazy, that's what she is," Jay muttered as she walked back across the road and retrieved Sam's shoes, holding them with two fingers by the heels. "Although, in this case..." He gaze drifted to me. "I guess I can't totally blame her."

"You okay, Beau?" Em asked, leaning toward me to get a good look at my face. I was still standing where I was, frozen in place. She added, "I guess seeing something like that had to be kind of..." She searched for the right word.

"Freaky?" Jay suggested. "Insane?"

Emma nodded. "Yeah, that."

They both turned, studying my face again. My eyes were slightly wider than usual, and I was sure I was white as a sheet.

"You're not seriously going to faint, are you?" said Jay, with supreme disgust. "Or throw up on the road? Come on."

Emma put a hand on my arm. "Maybe we'd better get you back over to your truck, Beau, so you can sit down. You don't look so good."

I wanted to argue. Maybe it was just ingrained in my DNA from the cave man era, but there was something about being the only guy there having a kind of episode while a couple of girls looked on with mingled pity and concern. However, I doubted either of them would buy any attempt at a tough guy act, so I only nodded, and let Emma pull me over to the truck.

"You drive, Em," Jay said. "He looks like he's going to puke." She turned and eyed me with an expression of deepest loathing. "Honestly," she muttered. "I would have thought if Jules was going to go and blow our secret like this, she would at least have the sense to choose a guy with a little more stomach. Look at him, he's a marshmallow."

"Cut him a little slack, Jay," said Em good-naturedly as she turned the key in the ignition and set the shift into drive. "The way I remember it, we were all kind of freaked out the first time we saw that. That's how normal people react. It takes a little bit of time to stop being normal."

Jay snorted and shook her head. "I'm still with Paula, I think Jules was an idiot. This is going to come back and bite us in the butt. I really hope Paula takes a chunk out of her."

I was starting to get my bearings back, and I turned on Jay, who had clambered into the back and was now lounging in the middle seat.

"Hey," I said, a little sharply. "Your friends are out there in the woods, trying to take each other apart. You think that's a joke? They could really hurt each other if Samantha can't get them to calm down."

Jay snorted, and even Emma smiled slightly.

"I know what it probably seems like to you," Emma said. "But I wouldn't worry about them, Beau. We're tougher than we look."

"Yeah, if we had an anxiety attack about someone getting hurt every time Paula flew off the handle like that, our lives would probably be at least ten years shorter by now."

I wasn't entirely convinced. I couldn't seem to force the picture of the great fighting wolves from my mind, the feeling of their deep growls reverberating in my chest, their enormous teeth snapping with the sound of cracking whips. However, if Emma and Jay weren't concerned, I knew I probably shouldn't be either.

I shook my head, trying to shake it off the nausea that continued to roil in my stomach.

Emma continued reassuringly, "Anyway, you don't have to worry about Jules. She's a natural fighter. You saw the way she phased in midair as she went for Paula—even Sam couldn't have done that."

Jay scoffed. "Paula's been doing this a lot longer than Jules has. She has more experience. She'll get a bite in, and probably more than that."

"You're always free to your own opinion," said Emma. She smiled secretly at me and leaned in, adding in a sing-song undertone. "Even if she's totally wrong."

"I heard that," Jay grumbled.

"So," I said, as the truck made its way around the road, passing by the dark coast and winding around back toward the reservation. "Where are we going again?"

"Sam told us to meet her at Elliot's house," Emma answered. "You don't mind, do you?"

I shook my head. "Course not." Then I added curiously, "Elliot? Who's that?"

Emma grinned a little. "Sam's boyfriend."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say. I had never figured Sam for the type to have a boyfriend.

"Actually, I guess we should say fiancé now, I keep forgetting," she said. "He's nice, you'll like him."

"Maybe we can get him to put on some steaks when we get there, I'm _starving_ ," Jay complained.

"She's always hungry," Emma told me. "And she likes all her meat extra rare."

"So do you," Jay pointed out.

Emma conceded this with a little embarrassed smile. "Maybe," she admitted. "After I phased. The way we remember it, you liked rare meat before you changed. That is what we like to call abnormal."

Jay waved a hand dismissively. "Normal's overrated anyway." She turned her dark eyes to me again. "But anyway, enough about that. We want to know how Jules did it. How'd she overcome the injunction?"

I blinked. Injunction. "Um. Do you mean the order from Sam not to tell anyone your secret?"

Jay frowned, perhaps perturbed by just how much I knew. "Yeah...that," she said cautiously.

I shrugged. "She didn't actually tell me anything. I just kind of guessed right. Once I started saying stuff about it, she was able to talk about it when she couldn't before."

Emma looked thoughtful. "Hmm. I guess that would work. But how...? Seems quite a few pieces to put together, unless you saw one of us change by accident."

I didn't want to get into Jules sharing with me all the tribes' secrets before all this, so I just shook my head and shrugged. I changed subject. "So, does Elliot know about all this? I mean that his fiancée's a werewolf?"

Em nodded slowly, her eyes focused on the road. "Yeah," she said in a low voice. "...He knows."

The truck was silent for a long moment, and I felt like I'd stumbled across something sensitive, though I couldn't imagine what it was.

Jay suddenly reached forward and poked me hard in the shoulder. "Hey, when we get there, don't stare. Or Sam might deck you."

"Stare?"

"Being around werewolves like us has its risks," Emma said quietly. In a more upbeat voice, as though keen on getting the conversation on a different note, she said, "So, in the meadow. We've all been wondering for a little while now. The leech we killed. She wasn't a friend of yours, was she?"

I shook my head. "Definitely not. If anything, she wanted a dinner date, and I was going to be the dinner."

Emma smiled, slumping a little in the seat. "That's a relief. We really held back a little longer than we should have—we didn't want to break the treaty. But Jules really pushed for us to do something, and I don't think any of was too keen on sitting back and watching you get eaten."

I remembered suddenly Jules's freaked out expression when she thought that Lauren might have been a friend, and not trying to kill me. She'd really taken a risk for me. I was fervently grateful she had.

At the mention of the treaty, a dim memory flickered in the back of my mind. "Jules said something about the treaty once. Why would killing Lauren have broken the treaty?"

Emma shrugged. "Technically, you were inside Cullen territory. We aren't allowed to attack any of the Cullens when we're off Quileute land, so if she had been a new addition to the Cullen family or a friend, then...well, that would have been in violation of the treaty. We can't break the treaty under any circumstances—not unless they break it first."

"What's their part of the treaty?" I said curiously. "What would they do to break it?"

Emma made a face. "If they bite a human. That includes eating them, too. Obviously, if we had waited until that point, you would have been dead. As Jules pointed out."

"Oh," I said, considering that. "Well, thanks for stepping in. I'm glad you didn't wait. I'd be vampire chow by now."

"No problem," said Emma, smiling. "We really should be thanking you. I think some of us could have died of happiness, finally being allowed to get our teeth into one of them."

I turned to look at Emma, who was smiling faintly as she drove the truck on past the easternmost house on the highway and turned onto a narrow dirt road. I could see the lean muscle in her arms, which I was pretty sure had not been there before when I'd met her before she'd turned wolf. She still had the quiet, almost shy face I remembered, and that contrast made some of the things that came out of her mouth all the more startling.

"Hey," I said suddenly, studying her face. "Do you really like being a wolf?"

Emma was silent. She glanced in my direction once, then stared out the windshield for a long moment.

"Sorry," I said, coloring slightly. "Guess maybe that was kind of a personal question."

"No," she said with a sigh. "It's not that. It's just I don't know how to answer. There are definitely things we all miss about life before all this. It was quiet, it felt safe. Personally, I was never all that physical. But there are things I enjoy about this, too. Feeling strong, powerful. Knowing you can chase down those things that could slaughter a hundred people on whim and rip them apart, and save all the victims that monster would have killed if you hadn't been there. There's something nice about that."

I heard Jay snort softly in the back, like she thought maybe things were getting too sentimental, and Emma blushed a little, ducking her head.

"Yeah," I said, looking out the front window. "I could see that. Even though I know it's no cakewalk."

Emma nodded slowly, still staring straight ahead.

We reached the end of the lane, and there was a relatively small slate-gray house there, with a variety of garden plants outside in dark patches of fertilizer in the yard, obviously carefully cultivated, the grass around each circle neatly trimmed.

Emma opened the truck door and stepped out, and Jay was out a moment later. As I got out a second after Jay, I said, "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

Jay glanced back at me. "Sure. You might get punched in the face for it, but go ahead."

"Is your name Jay or Jaybird?" I wondered.

She rolled her eyes, lips twisting in a grimace. "It's Jay. _Jaybird_ is Paula's polite nickname for me. Sometimes it's Jailbird, if she's really ticked off about something. You can call me Jaybird too, if you have a death wish."

Jay strolled on to the house, flexing her hands experimentally.

Emma and I lagged a little behind, and I glanced at her, my eyebrows raised.

Emma laughed. "She's nicer than she seems. Most of that tough guy act is just an act. Same with Paula."

"How much of it isn't an act?" I wanted to know.

"Maybe twenty-five percent," she admitted.

"That leaves a lot of tough guy," I said doubtfully.

Jay strode up the one step and opened the door without knocking. Emma went next, and I warily followed in behind.

The house was of a similar design to Bonnie and Jules, mainly small rooms, with a larger front room that also doubled as a kitchen. There was someone there with his back to us. He had a bowl in hand, and was stirring a thick, dark substance, some kind of sauce I thought, with the practiced ease of a guy who spent a lot of time in the kitchen.

He half turned toward us, and his face seemed to light up. He was a tall guy, though I imagined he could only be a little taller than Sam, with broad shoulders. I wondered what Jay had meant about not staring. He seemed like a handsome enough guy, with the kind of face naturally given to smiling. Maybe he had a bit of acne somewhere—or maybe Sam was the jealous type, and she didn't care for anyone to stare, girl or guy.

"Yo," said Elliot, and he had a deep, pleasant kind of voice. "You're back. I was just making up a batch of my special sauce, I was thinking I'd throw a couple of steaks on the grill for lunch."

"Throw them on now," said Jay. "We're going to kill over any second."

"Hmm," said Elliot, glancing at a wooden clock on the wall. "Steaks for breakfast."

"The most important meal of the day," said Jay.

"What about some eggs and bacon?" he asked.

Jay shook her head. "Too light."

Elliot chuckled. "All right then. A couple of morning rare steaks, coming right up." He set the bowl on the table, and turned around as he headed for the refrigerator.

As he turned, my mouth fell open in shock. I quickly looked away, hoping no one had noticed, but before long, my eyes were creeping back to look at him from the corner of my eye.

From the side, Elliot looked like a totally normal guy. But as he turned I caught sight of the right side of his face. It was covered in scars. Three thick, angry red lines ran from his hair line to his chin, distorting his features, dragging one eye down in a sagging, half-lidded pucker, and twisting the corner of his mouth in a permanent grimace. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen anything so grotesque. Rude as it was, for a second I found myself thinking of that split-faced villain from Batman.

I quickly looked away, trying to be nonchalant.

Before Elliot made it to the refrigerator, he paused as his eyes, both the whole one and the drooping one, fell on me. "Ah," he said. "Hello there. Brought a friend with you?" He looked from me to the other two a bit uncertainly, still looking good-natured enough, though I had a feeling he wasn't used to his pack of female wolves bringing people over to play.

I looked up, doing my best to keep my eyes on the left side of his face. I hesitated, not sure if I should introduce myself, or wait to be introduced.

Jay rolled her eyes. "Beau Swan. Should have known he would end up here eventually. Jules just wouldn't leave it alone. He knows everything, by the way."

The moment Elliot heard my name, his kind face seemed to harden, and he regarded me with cool dark eyes. He suddenly looked far more like Two-Face than he had a second ago.

"I see," he said. "So, you're the vampire guy I've heard so much about."

I folded my arms across my chest. Maybe it was because I'd just spent the morning in the presence of a bunch of supernaturally powerful werewolves and Elliot was just an ordinary guy like me, but I realized I didn't feel intimidated. "Sure am," I said. Got a problem with that, wolf-guy?"

To my surprise, he suddenly laughed, as did Emma and Jay, dissolving the tension. The left side of his face split out in another grin, the skin around his left eye crinkling with good humor. "I guess not."

He glanced over at Jay and Emma. "So, what happened to Samantha? Think she'll be coming along, too?"

Emma winced. "Paula might have gotten a little excited again. You know, when she, er, saw Beau."

Elliot nodded sagely. "That doesn't surprise me." He glanced at the fridge. "I really think we better stick to bacon and eggs. The steaks will take too long. I'll get them ready for afternoon lunch. You think the others will be along pretty soon?"

Jay sighed, but she didn't put up anymore of an argument. "Fine, you win. But make three batches at least. Don't worry about those three, if they don't make it, they don't make it. Their loss."

Emma looked at me, eyes twinkling, and said in a stage whisper behind her hand, "Jay doesn't think about anything besides food. It's part of her tough guy act."

"I heard that."

Elliot surveyed Emma and I curiously for a moment, before he again headed for the fridge, pulling out six gray cartons of eggs and setting them on the counter.

"Here," said Emma. "Let me help."

She started forward, but Elliot waved her off. "No, you run along and sit down." He said with a kind of joking sternness, "This is my kitchen and I don't like anyone messing around with it." His expression softened a little and he added, "And, I imagine you've all already been working hard enough."

Emma retired to the table in the middle of the room, a large wooden table that looked like it might have been hand-carved, and pulled out a chair. Jay was already lounging about there, tilting her wooden chair back on two legs.

Emma noticed I was still standing a little back by the door, a bit awkwardly, and she smiled and beckoned to me. "Come on, Beau, over here." I tentatively pulled out a chair, trying not to scuff the wood door, and took a seat beside Emma.

Emma and Jay bantered some more, occasionally throwing things out to Elliot, who inserted dry remarks now and again, and I couldn't help but relax in the warm atmosphere. Emma and Jay seemed as comfortable here as they would have been in the house of an older brother. My eyes again drifted to Elliot's back as he beat the eggs in an almost comically huge mixing bowl. The sleeves of his collared shirt were turned up to the elbows, and for the first time I noticed that the scars on his face extended all the way down his arm and over his strong hand too. He really had paid a heavy price for being a werewolf guy.

At last the door finally opened, and Samantha appeared in the doorway.

Elliot turned toward her, and half of his face broke into a wide smile. "Welcome back, love. I'll bet you're hungry. Bring the others in, too."

Samantha was always so cool and stoic, I half expected her to look annoyed or at least a touch embarrassed by the open affection and term of endearment. However, as her eyes fell on Elliot, her lips spread into the biggest smile I had ever seen on her face. Unlike Jay, I was pretty sure that smile was not because of the food.

Samantha crossed the room in two strides, and she said in a voice that was almost a sigh, "Elliot." She took his face in her hands, kissing him once on the scarred side of his face, then on his lips.

"Jeez," Jay muttered. "Somebody, get them a room. Don't ruin my appetite."

Emma watched them out of the corner of her eye, with a kind of embarrassed happiness.

I trained my eyes on the table, concentrating hard on the patterns of the wood grain. It was hard to see that and not start thinking about the black pit in my own chest.

I was relieved when Jules and Paula came in a moment later so I could turn my attention to something else, though I was a little disconcerted to see they were both laughing and slapping each others shoulders like BFFs.

I got up automatically from the table, going partway over to Jules, though I stood there uncertainly for a minute, not sure what I was going to do.

Paula passed by me and went to the table, and as she drew out a chair to sit with the others, I noticed a long pink line on her forearm.

"You do that?" I asked in a low voice as Jules made it to me. Over my shoulder, I studied the mark a bit closer. It looked like it was weeks old.

Jules shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah. Barely touched her, really. It'll be gone by sundown."

"Really?" I said, studying her arm again. Her elbow was now resting on the table, as she and Jay suddenly burst into laughter.

"Yeah, it's a wolf thing." Jules shot me a grin. "Me, though, I don't have a scratch."

"Oh," I said. I wanted to ask more about wolf powers, but the sound of Samantha's voice interrupted all the conversations in the room, and everyone turned to look up at her, where she still stood by Elliot.

"All right," she said. "The meeting in the woods was interrupted, but Jules has important information." Samantha turned her eyes to Jules, but Paula was grinning as though she were already in on the secret. And maybe she was, if she'd heard Jules's thoughts while they were out there fighting.

Jules was looking more serious now, and she turned her eyes to Emma and Jay. "We know what the male wants. Or more accurately, _who_ he wants. We thought he was after us for killing that one we got in the woods, the female. Turns out though, that one wasn't his mate after all. The Cullens already got his mate last year."

Jules paused, looking at both Emma and Jay in turn. "The bloodsucker is looking for revenge for his mate, but it's not us he's after. He's looking for Beau."

Jay was the first to respond. "You can't be serious. That makes no sense whatsoever. I mean look at him—he's just an ordinary guy. Obviously he didn't have anything to do with killing the leech's mate. He's not even one of them."

I tried to keep my expression even, but the words cut deep.

"Unfortunately, the situation is more complicated than it appears," Sam said coolly. "The target's mate got into some kind of confrontation with the Cullens, and she was trying to set them off further by putting Beau in the middle of it. Edythe Cullen—that's the small one with the copper hair—and the rest of the Cullens killed this vampire in order to protect Beau, who was viewed by this vampire, and the one we are after now, as her mate. Therefore, he believes that killing Beau is the most logical way to achieve his vengeance on Edythe Cullen and the others."

I didn't like the way they spoke about the Cullens, or about—about Edythe. _The small one._ Like they were animals. I looked down at the floor.

"Huh," said Jay. "Sounds complicated." A sudden grin flashed across her face, and she gave me a speculative look. "But what you're saying is...we have ourselves some bait."

Faster than I could follow, Jules lunged at Jay, seizing the back of her chair and shaking it hard. "Say that again, crow."

Jay turned around, still grinning, and leaned forward so her face was perhaps an inch from Jules. "Apparently, we now have ourselves some—"

"Enough," Sam snapped, looking a touch exasperated now. She pointed two fingers in two different directions. "You two, separate. Now."

Jay shrugged and, still smirking, got up from her chair and swung around to the other side of the room. Jules, looking annoyed, withdrew back to stand beside me, arms folded.

"As I was saying," Sam continued, "this information is critical. We will be changing our strategy accordingly, starting now. We've always hunted as a group up to now to ensure each member's safety, but if it is true he's after Beau, he probably won't try to take advantage of our divided numbers. We'll cover more territory if we split up into two groups, and we can try to appear to leave a few holes in our defenses. We might be able to lead him into a trap."

"Two groups will means one group will only have two," Emma said quietly.

"Not for long," said Jay. "Quil is close to phasing, I'm sure of it. Then it would be three and three."

The room was suddenly quiet for a moment. Everyone was staring at the floor. Jules looked away, grimacing as though she were in pain. These werewolves, these Amazon warriors out hunting vampires, didn't _seem_ unhappy to me. In fact, they seemed to be getting along fine. However, I found myself thinking of the hopelessness, the pain in Jules's face as I'd spoken to her yesterday and this morning, and the conflicted look in Emma's face when I talked to her about it. And I wondered, what did I know? What did I know of what Jules and the others were really having to go through? What they had been forced to sacrifice without really being given a choice?

Sam finally sighed and shook her head. "We can't count on that," she said quietly. She continued, as always sounding like a commanding officer, "Paula, Jay, and Em will take the outer perimeter. Jules and I will take the inner. If he falls for it, then we'll collapse and we'll have him."

Elliot, who was still holding the bowl of eggs, was watching Sam, the whisk in his hand unmoving. The good side of his mouth was pressed in a concerned, almost pained line.

I found my eyes going to Jules, too. Jules and Samantha would both be in the smaller group. Of all the wolves, they would be the most exposed.

Sam turned her eyes on me. "Jules believes that you ought to stay here in La Push as much as possible until this is dealt with. If you are here instead of at home, he may have a harder time finding you."

I swallowed. "What about Charlie?" I asked.

"We'll get him to come down here, too," Jules said. "March Madness is still going, I'm sure Bonnie and the Clearwaters can wangle it somehow. We'll bribe him with Holly's fish stir fry." She put a hand on my shoulder, gripping it hard. "Don't worry, Beau, we'll look after your dad."

I opened my mouth to respond, but Sam cleared her throat.

"Before you reach your decision," Sam said. "Something you should be aware of. I tend to agree with Jules's assessment; you would be safer here than you would be at home—at least where the monster stalking you is concerned."

She gave me a hard look. "None of us would deliberately do you any harm," she said in a low, intense voice. "But you must understand the danger. If you are to be in close proximity to us for an extended period of time, your safety cannot be guaranteed."

Her eyes flickered once deliberately to Elliot, then back to me.

"I wouldn't," Jules objected. "I would never—"

Sam cut her off, continuing in a low voice, "If there was anywhere else you knew of that you might go. Anywhere else you felt safe."

I stared back at her, and I wondered where else she thought I could possibly go. Who else could fight vampires? Did she expect me to run off to sunny Florida to my mom? Drag her into this? Or, I wondered, was it possible Sam thought that maybe I still had contact with _them_ after all...?

I shook my head. "I know the risks. I know about being around—around strong people, who can't always be in complete control. I get it." I looked back at Sam, my eyes hard with determination. "But you guys are strong, and you know what you're doing. I don't want to lead that guy anywhere but here."

Samantha looked back at me for a moment, and I thought I saw a spark of a new emotion I hadn't seen there, at least not while she was looking at me. Something like respect.

Sam nodded once. "Then we are agreed," she said. "Beau will come here as often as possible. And we will hunt the stalker on our lands until we have put an end to him."

A cheer rose up in the room, and I couldn't help but think of those old war movies, where the captain or the general made a speech before a big battle, and all the soldiers roared with passion and fervor for the cause, ready to give their blood for their country, for their ideals.

My eyes returned to Jules, and I found myself thinking of what usually followed those inspirational speeches. Violence, chaos. Death.

Oblivious to everyone else in the room, I found myself reaching out and touching Jules's wrist.

She looked back at me quizzically, still half grinning. "What?" she said. "What's with that look all of a sudden? Don't tell me you're scared again." She leaned in close, and murmured in a voice so low only I could hear, "That's more damsel-in-distress points for you."

I gripped her hand and said quietly, "Be careful when you're out there. Please, Jules."

She laughed, leaning in a bit closer, until our noses almost touched. "Idiot. I'm always careful."

I looked at her careless, almost eager expression as she contemplated hunting Victor, and I felt the anxiety in the pit of my stomach intensify.

"Hey," called Elliot's deep, warm voice above the chatter. "Breakfast's served. Better come get it while it's hot."

The strategic conversation seemed all but forgotten in the mad scramble for food. As I thought about the huge wolves that had come out of these relatively small, lean girls, it seemed no wonder that they ate so much.

Jules ate at the table with the others, but I stayed by the counter, sure that if I sat by any one of them, I was liable to get elbowed in the face. Elliot did the same, eating his eggs and bacon in silence, leaning next to the sink as he watched the girls fight and joke around.

Without looking away from them, he suddenly said softly, "You're worried about Jules. Going out there, looking for that thing."

I was startled to hear him addressing me, and it took me a moment to respond. "Yeah. Vampires...you don't want to mess with one. Every single one of them is like a Superman, all on his own. I know Jules and the others are strong, but I just don't know if they fully get what they're signing up for."

Elliot smiled slightly. "You know, I think there's a reason in most cultures, it's the men who go to war, and the women who stay home."

I glanced back at him, surprised. "Yeah? Why's that?"

Elliot shook his head, and said conspiratorially, "I think it's because we worry more."

"Hmm," I said, noncommittally. I thought there might be a lot of wives with husbands off fighting who might have disagreed with him on that.

Elliot chuckled at my expression, then amended, "All right, maybe we don't worry more. Maybe we just don't handle it as well."

The corner of my lip quirked up in the smallest of smiles.

I spent the rest of the day in La Push, mostly hanging around Bonnie's house. Now that I was in on the secret, Bonnie was friendly again. She was only too happy to help out, leaving a message on Charlie's phone at the station inviting him on down, and Charlie showed up that evening with a couple of pizzas. He watched with kind of startled fascination as Jules proceeded to devour one of them all on her own.

Charlie watched us closely all evening. Even though we'd obviously appeared to have made up, after the extremity of the the previous night's drama, he didn't seem ready to completely dismiss it. As I tried to set his mind at ease, I did my best to be cheerful and as normal as possible, which I found wasn't all that difficult. It would have been hard to describe how good it was to be back with Jules, talking and laughing again. Warmed by her presence.

Only when it grew dark and it was starting to get late, so that Charlie commented that we had better be getting back, did I feel the worry that had taken hold of me in Elliot's kitchen return. I knew that the moment Charlie and I were gone, Jules would be off in the dark forest with the rest of the pack, hunting for Victor. According to her, they'd chased him pretty far the previous night, away from the hot springs and halfway to Canada, so they weren't expecting any confrontations tonight, but I couldn't help but feel the anxiety pressing against the inside of my skull. Especially since Jules had seemed disappointed by the prospect of a night on patrol with absolutely no action.

As Charlie headed out to his car and I slowly headed to my truck, Jules followed me out. As I got into the driver's seat and fiddled with my buckle, Jules leaned over the rolled down window.

"Don't worry," she said in a low voice. "You can sleep easy tonight. We'll be close by, watching."

I shook my head. "It's not really me I'm worried about."

Jules laughed softly. "You sound like an old grandma. I'll give you some lady points for that. But seriously, we're not in any danger. If there were a lot of them out there, that would be a bit of a worry, but he's just one little leech on his own, and he doesn't want to fight us, he wants you. Personally, I can't wait until we get a hold of him."

"Be careful," I insisted again. "Really, Jules."

"I will," she promised softly. Then she leaned forward through the window and kissed me lightly on the cheek. "Get some rest tonight, you look exhausted."

I felt my neck going slightly red, and I muttered, "I'll try." I couldn't help but add, "And you know Charlie is parked right behind me, watching everything we do, right?"

Jules laughed. "Course I do." She pulled away from the window, and turned and waved at Charlie deliberately. Then she turned back to me and said, "Come down first thing tomorrow, all right? See you."

"See you," I mumbled, waving back, and I watched her go back into the house.

The moment she was gone, I heard Charlie honk loudly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," I muttered, putting the truck into drive.

Charlie followed me in my truck all the way home, and the moment I was in the door, I kicked off my shoes and tried to make a break for my room. Not fast enough.

"Beau," said Charlie, coming in the house right on my heels, arms folded. "Mind explaining what all that was about?"

I feigned ignorance. "Nothing. We're just friends, Dad."

Charlie raised an eyebrow. He knew I knew that wasn't what he was talking about. "You went there to set things straight this morning," he said. "So I'm guessing you did. So what happened? What about Samantha Uley and the female gang you were talking about?"

These were exactly the questions I didn't want to answer, because I didn't have good replies for them.

I hesitated at the foot of the stairs. "Yeah, Jules and I made up." There I paused, trying to figure out what I wanted to say. I remembered last night, the way Charlie had told Bonnie off yesterday in my defense when Bonnie had tried to push the blame for the confrontation on me. He'd stuck himself out for me, and I didn't want to just brush it all off as nothing.

I shrugged slightly, eyes on the ground. "I guess I still don't know exactly what's going on. But I met Samantha, her fiancé, and some of the others today, and I think whatever it is, it's not what I thought. I don't think it's anything bad. I think I must have just misread the situation."

Charlie didn't answer, just looked at me.

My gaze still fastened on the floor, I added, "I overheard what you said last night—to Bonnie, on the phone. Thanks...thanks for sticking up for me. It meant a lot."

With that, I turned and quickly dashed away up the stairs, sparing Charlie the necessity of trying to work his way through a muttered, embarrassed reply. He didn't try to stop me.

I threw myself down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling for a long time. The day's events played through my head, as my brain tried to organize the boatload of new information, make sense of it. But mostly it just flashed through in disjointed pictures. The dinner at Bonnie's house, Charlie's confusion, the werewolf fight on the road, breakfast at Elliot's.

My thoughts lingered briefly on Elliot, on the long, terrible scars across his face, and Samantha, kissing them as she came in. No one had ever said how Elliot got those scars, but somehow, for some reason I couldn't explain—perhaps the way Samantha had looked me and then at Jules with the barest flicker of pity in her eyes, as though she understood Jules perfectly, and feared for her—I was certain that the werewolf who had given Elliot those scars was Samantha. It wasn't hard to imagine how it would have happened. If I had been standing next to Jules or Paula when they had exploded into their wolf forms, that could have easily been me. You didn't mess around with that kind of power—Samantha was right, they _were_ dangerous.

And yet, somehow, I wasn't really apprehensive about the thought of spending more time down at La Push, or with Jules. In fact, even with Victor on the hunt for me, I was looking forward to it. Jules would never do anything to hurt me, of that much I was certain. Paula, maybe, but I could try to stay out of her way.

Instead, I felt my thoughts winding back further, all the way to that conversation with Jules on the beach. I remembered the dark fury in her eyes as she accused me of being a hypocrite. I wasn't the hypocrite she had thought I was—or was I?

My thoughts lingered for a moment over Edythe, not allowing myself to quite bring her impossibly beautiful, divine features into focus, but seeing bits and pieces, like an incomplete puzzle.

Jules and her pack were wrong about Edythe, and the Cullens. They weren't the bad guys. Although Edythe had killed and consumed people in her darker past, she had specifically sought out criminals, people who the world would be better off without. She had never been a monster like Victor or Lauren, killing innocent people without a thought.

However, there my thoughts paused. And I wondered.

Edythe wasn't a bad guy. But what if she _had_ been? What if, when I met her during that first week in Forks, she was like any other vampire, who saw us as no more than prey to be hunted at leisure to sate her appetite? What if, when Jules had told me that story of vampires, people had been disappearing in the woods as they were now?

Would I have kept away from her? Would the thought of seeing her hurt or destroyed not send the same pain through my chest and mind as it did now?

The answer to those questions disturbed me deeply.

I tried to console myself. Love was just irrational. The more you loved someone, the less sense anything made. When you really fell in in love, you just couldn't be logical anymore.

However, as I closed my eyes, and I saw the dark Edythe from that dream that first night again, beckoning to me, beautiful, but terrible, with eyes that glowed crimson and a mouth full of grinning sharp teeth, I wondered. Edythe was one of the good guys. But if she had been one of the bad guys, a bad guy like Victor or Joss, and I had loved her, followed her into her world—how long? How long, before I became one of the bad guys, too?

I didn't want to think about this anymore, so I rolled onto my side, and closed my eyes. I thought about Jules and her sister wolves out in the dark forest, running, running to fight the bad guys, and keep me and everyone else safe from harm. Just as I teetered on the edge of drifting off, I mumbled to myself, "Be careful, Jules. Stay safe."

* * *

A/N: A long chapter, but a lot of fun to work on. (For some reason, I seem to like working on chapters that need a few more changes than usual the most. x3)

Oh, I finished reading Breaking Dawn the other day. So much I'd forgotten. Now I have some notes on things that will help me later on. (Of course, reading Breaking Dawn makes me want to watch part two of the movie again. I loved what the movie people did with that, so awesomely epic.)

Thanks so much for reading! If you have a moment, leave a comment and let me know what you thought. :J See you next time~

Posted 4/12/16


	16. Pressure

A/N: Hey! Hope you guys had a good week, I've been getting to the hard stuff as far as future rough drafts go, so wish me luck...I have a lot of thinking (plotting) to do on how to make BDR come together. x3 And I still need to solidify my thinking on the Volturi on a few points before we get to those chapters coming up pretty quickly now.

Oh, I'm also making another change to canon (a very minor one) this chapter, concerning the way the wolves' transformation works, which you'll probably notice. I'll explain my reasoning on that at the end.

Thanks for reading, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 15: Pressure

It was spring break in Forks again. It was a relief to be away from school for awhile—although it was doubtful Victor would have attacked me in the midst of so many witnesses, I couldn't seem to shake the sense that I was putting any normal human who came near me in danger. On the other hand, I couldn't help but remember that I'd also been stalked by a vampire last spring break, too, and I hoped this wasn't some kind of tradition in the making.

I was already starting to get into the pattern of things. Sunday, I spent most of the day on the beach, while Charlie was up at the Black house with Bonnie and the Clearwaters. Charlie thought I was spending the time with Jules, but Jules had been forced to take off to help the pack with the hunt, and I spent most of the time alone, thinking and worrying.

The few times Jules did return, she was apologetic, which bothered me even more, because it meant she was aware of just how much I missed her and worried over her when she was away. When she was there, we often spent the time walking along the beach, her filling me in about the latest movements of the pack, talking and joking about anything and everything.

Something had subtly changed between us. Whenever we walked along the beach, she would casually reach over and take my hand. Not in a pushy or forceful way, but like it was completely natural. Maybe I should have pulled away, but I didn't.

However, I was getting uneasy. Based on the occasional boyfriend remarks, I knew the girls in the pack thought we were dating, and I knew that's what it must look like from the outside, but I knew that shouldn't matter, so long as Jules and I understood how it really was. Then again, they could all read one another's minds, so if they thought I was her boyfriend, then what did Jules really think? Maybe I was sending mixed messages.

Even McKayla, when I drove up to work Tuesday afternoon and Jules, making sure I got there safely, followed me up on her Black Harley, was quick to jump to that conclusion.

"Is she your girlfriend now?" McKayla asked, as Jules waved at me one last time through the shop window, then turned her motorcycle in a tight circle and sped back off down the road. Although she tried to keep her voice polite and disinterested, I could hear the resentment.

"No," I answered. "We're just friends." I added, "I do spend most of my time down at La Push, though."

"She totally likes you, you know," McKayla said bluntly.

I sighed. "Life is complicated."

McKayla rolled her eyes. "So you're just going to keep friend-zoning her?"

I shrugged noncommittally and didn't answer, and instead went to go put on my vest. As I glanced back, I noticed the resentment had faded from McKayla's expression, and as she looked out the window where Jules had been, she almost looked like she felt bad for her.

Which made me feel even worse.

That night, we had dinner at Bonnie's house again, both me and Charlie, and Bonnie also invited Sam and Elliot for Charlie to meet. Elliot helped with the cooking, and shared with Charlie the secret of his own homemade barbeque sauce, and during dinner asked him a lot of questions about his work at the police station that got Charlie talking. I could tell right away he had taken a liking to Elliot, and even Sam occasionally joined the conversation. I hoped this would take care of all lingering suspicions about possible illicit activities taking place on the reservation.

Jules and I managed to slip away early, heading over to Jules's garage so we could talk freely without being overheard. Jules went to sit in the Rabbit, and I followed.

When I slammed the door shut behind me, the sound faded to silence, and for a minute, neither of us said anything. At last, Jules leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes.

"You should sleep," I said. "I mean, you're out all night, then you spend all day with me."

She cracked one eye open, then blinked and forced herself to sit forward. She was smiling a bit, though it still looked exhausted. "It's okay. I'll get around to it eventually. I hate wasting time sleeping."

I shook my head. "Is that a wolf thing? Not needing to sleep?"

Jules laughed. "Sadly, no. We really have to sleep sometime. We can probably push ourselves a little harder than a normal person, though. When we go on the hunt, all our senses are completely alert, no matter how tired we are."

I nodded. "Still a lot of weird wolf rules I don't know," I said. "But I'll learn them eventually."

I turned to look at her, gazing at her a long moment. "Hey..." I said slowly. "There's been something I've sort of been wondering for a while now. I have this really weird question."

Jules raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead then. Just so long as it's not _weird_ weird."

I paused for a long moment. At last I finally asked, "What happens to your clothes? I mean, when you change. When you fought against Paula that one time, I saw what happened to your shoes, but...I didn't see any other scraps or anything."

A slow grin spread across Jules's face, as she studied my worried expression. "What?" she said. "What are you imagining?"

I felt the familiar red splotches creeping up my neck. "I'm not imagining anything. It's just...out in the woods, it seems like it would be cold...and dangerous..."

Jules laughed, delighted at my discomfort, then shook her head. "Actually, our clothes kind of change with us. At least close-fitting clothes. You didn't think we were wearing these as a fashion statement, did you?" She gestured down at the biking shorts and sleeveless undershirt that she never seemed to go anywhere without these days. "Regular clothes, no go. And shoes, dream on."

"And you aren't cold at all?" I marveled. Even in the garage, inside the Rabbit, the night air felt chilly where it touched my skin.

She shrugged. "Not really. You know when you thought I had a fever before? After the movie? That was just my body getting up to a normal temperature for us."

"And what is a normal temperature for you?" I asked, curious.

"I've been told it's one-oh-eight, one-oh-nine," she said. "I don't know, I've never bothered to check. But I could stand out in a snowstorm dressed like this, and it wouldn't bother me."

"And you heal fast," I said thoughtfully, remembering Paula's scar. "That's a wolf thing, too?"

Jules grinned. "Sure is." Her eyes lit up suddenly. "Want me to show you?" She reached for the glove compartment and casually pulled out a pocket knife, flipping it open.

My heading suddenly spinning at the thought, I put a hand to my forehead and grimaced. "No, please. Seriously—don't."

Jules laughed, but she obediently dropped the knife back where it belonged.

She leaned back against the seat again, and she sighed deeply. "Quil's going to change soon," she said suddenly. "Her temperature's like mine was—that's what her grandmother says. It won't be long now."

Her eyes were distant. The quiet in the car no longer felt comfortable, but strained.

"Quil never stood a chance," she murmured. "She's like me, a direct descendant of one of the wolves that was in the pack before us. Quilla Ateara. And I'm a descendant of Elda Black, and I'm related to Quilla, too, because she was my father's mother. Neither of us stood a chance. It will be soon now. Very soon."

She was quiet again, her dark eyes even darker than usual in the gloom. Jules clenched a fist, and pressed it to her forehead. She took slow, deliberate breathes.

I waited until her tense form was relaxed again before I said quietly, "Can I ask you something? There's something else...something else I've been wondering. Besides the clothes thing."

She was quiet for a moment longer. Then she said quietly, "Sure. Anything."

I hesitated. "Are you okay?" I asked. My eyes flickered down from her empty, hopeless face, then back up. "Is this really bad for you?"

Jules stared off into space, considering. Then she turned to me. Her eyes were still troubled, but she said, "I guess, in a lot of ways, it could be worse. When it first happened, it was absolute hell—you can't even imagine." She smiled a little. "But, if I'm being honest, half of that was because of you."

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I didn't answer.

She shook her head. "You know, I think I would have changed much sooner, if not for you. Getting upset can trigger the change earlier, but I wasn't upset at all, I was happy. So when...when it happened. All that time, feeling like I was breaking my promise to you, not being able to talk to you. Feeling like if you knew what I was, you'd run away screaming. I felt so sick, and so alone. Now that you know, everything is so much better. All the hard parts just don't seem that hard anymore."

"What are the hard parts?" I asked softly. I had no idea if knowing just a little of what she was going through would let me help her in any way, but I hoped that it would.

Jules sighed again, leaning her head back against the headrest, and staring out the windshield at the dark trees and black sky.

"The worst part is," she said in a low, rasping voice, "is feeling out of control." She closed her eyes, and there was tension in her brow as though she were in pain as she continued, "Feeling like I can't trust myself. You know what happened, when I first changed? It was right after I got home from the movie. I didn't realize at the time, but I was a ticking time bomb, and my time had come. Bonnie took one look at me, and she said, 'You're looking a bit peaky, girl.' And that was it—I just completely blew up. I nearly tore her face off." A shiver went down Jules's spine. "And Sam—you saw Elliot's face. She lost control of her temper for one second, and he just happened to be standing too close.

"I think of what I almost did to Bonnie, what Sam did to Elliot—" Jules raised her hands in front of her, staring down at her palms. Her fingers were trembling slightly. "Sometimes I feel like I'm dangerous, like I'm this vicious animal normal people shouldn't be around. Like, if I really cared about you at all, I would do everything I could to stay away from you."

Before I really thought about it, I reached over and gripped her hand in mine. "You're not an animal," I said firmly. "You're a person. A good person. And you know how staying away from me worked the last time, so let's not start in on that. I know it's tough for you—the whole wolf-temper thing. But I'm not afraid of you, Jules. I want you to know that."

Jules snorted softly and looked away, though she didn't pull her hand away from mine. "You used to hang out with vampires. What do you know?"

"I'm a freak of nature," I admitted.

She turned to look at me, and she laughed suddenly. She shook her head.

"Anyway," she said. "Any more wolf questions? Since we're on a roll."

I grinned. "Okay," I said. "Then, if that's the worst part of being a wolf, what's the best part?"

Jules's grin matched mine. "Well, I guess there _are_ a lot of cool things. For me—has to be the speed. Being able to run that fast, it's a rush like nothing you'd believe. The motorcycles don't hold a candle. I mean, you realize we ran down that bloodsucker you were talking to? And she even had a bit of a head start."

My head spun. That _was_ fast. When a vampire moved, they looked like little more than a speed blur.

Jules looked at me for a long moment. "Hey," she said, voice still easy, but a little quieter. "You've asked me a lot of questions about us. Think I could have a turn?"

I paused, tensing for a moment. Then I relaxed, smiling a bit. "Yeah, I guess that's only fair."

She eyed me for a second. "What was it like? I mean, you spent all that time with vampires. Wasn't that freaky?"

I looked away. "Not really."

"But you do have a _little_ healthy dose of fear for them," she persisted. "You've had some run-ins with some of the others. Tell me some more about what happened...I mean, when you were in Phoenix, and the Cullens killed the redhead's mate. What was her name...?"

"Joss," I said. I shrugged. "There's not a lot to tell. Joss got a whiff of me, and she wanted to eat me, but Edythe got in the way. So Joss set up this kind of elaborate plot to lure me away from the Cullens, so she could torture me to death. She planned to get the whole thing on tape and leave it for Edythe. Like I said, it was a thrill ride for her, getting Edythe stirred up, picking a fight. Her way of having some fun."

The slight smile on Jules's lips was gone. Her dark eyes seemed to burn. She looked revolted. "Beasts," she whispered.

I shook my head. "Anyway, that's over now. Could have been a lot worse."

My eyes wandered to the windshield, and I stared off into space. Unconsciously, I traced the small scare on my right index finger, the crescent puncture marks just a little cooler than the rest of my body.

Jules noticed what I was doing, and she frowned. "Hey," she said, taking my hand again, and running a finger over mine. "That's a weird scar. Is that one one of the wounds that beast..."

Jules trailed off, falling into silence, and her eyes suddenly widened with horrified realization. "She—" she choked.

"Yeah," I said calmly, nodding. "She bit me."

Her eyes flashed back up to mine, confused. "But then...Shouldn't you be..."

I looked back at her. "It was Edythe. She sucked out the venom—you know, like you might do for a rattlesnake bite." I closed my eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. I'd been saying her name a lot lately, ever since I'd faced Lauren. But I was getting almost reckless. Letting it slip out when I wasn't mentally prepared, when it might just widen the gash. I opened my eyes again. "It was a close thing, though. Really close."

Jules stared back at me, her eyes still wide. I felt the floor of the car vibrating beneath me, and it took me a second to realize it was Jules—she was shaking, her fists clenched, her lips curled back over her teeth.

"Hey," I said, panicking a little. "Cool it, Jules, you can't do that in here. Get a grip." I put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

Jules bent over the steering wheel, and took several deep, steadying breathes as she shook her head vigorously back and forth. Slowly her fists unclenched, but her hands were still shaking.

"Talk about something else," she said hoarsely. "Anything. Tell me more about your vampires—did any of the others have extra powers?"

I hesitated. Jules had insinuated before I could be something like a spy, and I didn't like feeling like I was betraying the Cullens' secrets. However, seeing as how they were gone and not coming back, I didn't see how it could do any harm.

"Jessamine," I began. "She could sort of affect emotions of people around her. Like, she could calm people down if they were about to break out in a fight. Bet Sam could make some use of that with someone like Paula around, eh?" I tried to smile, but it was weak. "And Archie could see the future...or at least, possibilities for the future. Things always changed, based on people's choices."

Jules was still now, completely calm. My hand was still on her shoulder, and she glanced down at it. She frowned deeply, and when her eyes flickered back up to meet mine, they were almost angry. "Beau," she said.

"Yeah?" I said, uncertainly.

"I wasn't thinking just now. But if I start doing that again, get as far away from me as you can. Just get out and get back. And most of all—don'ttouch me again when I'm doing that. Look at what happened to Elliot. I could have taken off your entire freaking arm." She gripped the steering wheel again, and she glared out the windshield, though I wasn't sure if it was me she was angry at, or herself.

"Sorry," I said, folding my hands together and pulling back a little. "Sorry, I just didn't think."

"I'm a monster," she said suddenly, bitterly. "A freak. I should have better control than this."

Her eyes suddenly flickered back to me, and they were frustrated, accusing. "But you sure don't make it any easier, Beau. You don't even try to be careful. Maybe a little more fear and less I-don't-care-if-you-turn-into-a-dragon would be good for you."

It was unexpected. I'd been thinking about them so much lately, even saying her name aloud. But as I saw the familiar look in Jules's eyes—the anger, the conflict, torn between wanting me to be afraid, yet not wanting me to be afraid—for a moment her face was replaced by another, and without warning, the memories struck me hard, like a hammer blow to the chest.

I flinched and looked away sharply, my breathing catching in my throat. I tried to force it back down, the sudden explosion of crippling emotion—but it was too sudden, too unexpected, and I felt my back bend as I curled in on myself. My hand gripped my head.

Jules was instantly penitent. "Sorry," she whispered, tripping over the word. "Sorry, sorry—it's okay." She reached out a hand to touch me, then seemed to think better of it. Her face was a mask of anguish. She shook her head. "There's just—something wrong with me."

For some reason I couldn't explain, I didn't want her to misunderstand my reaction. I took a steadying breath, then reached over and grabbed her hand, holding it between my own. I shook my head vigorously. "It's not—" I began, my voice cracking. "It's not you, I swear. I just—wasn't expecting—it just reminded me. That's all."

Jules slowly relaxed, studying my expression. She extended her free hand toward me a second time. She hesitated a moment again, then gently touched her fingers to my face. "You're thinking about them again," she said softly.

I nodded. My throat was dry. My eyes flickered up to her and, to my surprise, I heard myself speak again, my voice low. "Sometimes, when I think about them...I feel like I'm being stabbed. Or like I'm trapped underwater, and I can't breathe."

I'd never said any of this aloud. But it was like we had no secrets anymore, the two of us.

Jules looked down at our hands, still linked between us. "Sorry," she mumbled again. "I've been bringing them up a lot. Making you talk about them. I won't if you don't want me too. I'll tell the others to lay off you, too."

I shook my head. "It's been...better than it was before. It's not as bad, mostly. Just...sometimes."

Jules hesitated, then she reached out and put an arm around my shoulders, leaning her head against mine. "We're both kind of messed up, aren't we?" she said, sighing.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"But at least we're together now," she said. "I'm glad of that. Honestly, Beau, those few weeks we were apart really sucked."

"Sucked," I agreed quietly. And I meant it, with everything that I was.

* * *

Things really did seem almost okay, so long as I was with Jules. But the problem was that she had to be gone quite a bit, off with the others hunting Victor. I had to stick around La Push for my own safety, but without Jules there, there didn't seem to be anywhere in particular I wanted to be, or anything I wanted to do. I felt awkward sitting in Bonnie's kitchen for hours on end, and though I did put in some work studying for a Calculus test coming up the next week, that could only last me so long. I tried making a little polite conversation with Bonnie, but like me, she wasn't much of a talker, and we always ended up lapsing into another awkward silence.

I tried heading over to Elliot's Wednesday afternoon, just for something to do. He was a relaxed, easygoing guy, the kind of guy that was easy to be around, and I thought maybe I could pick up some cooking tips, and get his recipe for barbeque sauce. Elliot didn't seem to mind the company, and he asked me a few questions about Forks, what kind of books I liked to read, and offered a few interesting details about life at La Push in return.

I thought things were going pretty well, until Samantha got back in the late afternoon. I had to make a quit exit or else find myself subjected to another dose of ultimate romance—Sam wasn't wordy, but the aura she cast when she was around Elliot and the look on her face was enough to set the knife twisting in my chest.

I finally settled on the beach as my main hangout spot. Only down there there really wasn't anything to do but pace, from one end of the rocky crescent to the other and back. Pace, and think.

My recent conversations with Jules kept playing in my mind, particularly that last one, where we'd talked so much about the Cullens. In light of everything going on, the fact I was being hunted by a psychotic vampire, Jules and the others were out there hunting for him, and Charlie and the others in town were out there hunting Jules—not to mention I seemed to be getting in deeper with Jules than ever before and I wasn't entirely sure what to do about it—it seemed almost stupid to let myself sink into depression thinking about my old wounds, and the gaping hole in my chest. But I knew I'd been letting myself think about them too much and I was paying the price for it now. It was almost fine to talk about them when Jules was there. Good, even. But when she was gone, the thought of them seemed to affect me just as it always had before.

When Jules came to find me in the evening, she found me sitting on the rocks, curled up with my arms around my knees. I hadn't even noticed the tide had risen, and it lapped against my ankles, soaking my pants in icy water.

I probably looked like I was contemplating walking out into the waves and never coming up, and Jules immediately crouched down beside me, looking anxious. She put an arm around my shoulders, and I was surprised at how much warmer I felt just from her proximity. "Hey," she said. "You doing okay?"

I nodded, still staring out at the waves.

"No, you're not," she said, answering for me. She helped pull me to my feet, and I registered for the first time how uncomfortable my wet jeans were. However, it was hard to find the strength to care about that much.

Jules studied my face, and she kept her warm hand gripping mine. "This isn't much of a spring break, is it?" she said suddenly with a sigh.

I shrugged. "Not like I'd be doing anything interesting at home anyway."

Jules frowned, thinking. At last, she nodded to herself. "You know what, I think I'll take tomorrow off. The others can go out without me. You and me, we'll do something fun for a change."

I eyed her doubtfully. After everything that had happened, and what was going on, the idea of fun sounded like an alien concept. "I don't know..."

"It's when things get most tense you have to remember to stop and relax a little," Jules insisted. "We both could use a distraction. You have to be loose when you're out there or you can't focus, and I'll be more relaxed if you're more relaxed. If you think about it, it's really for the good of the mission."

I wasn't entirely sure Sam would buy into that explanation, but all I said was, "What would we do?"

Jules pressed her lips together, considering. Her eyes wondered around the beach, as though looking for something exciting and thoroughly distracting to magically shoot up from the rocks. However, as her eyes drifted toward the horizon, she suddenly grinned. She turned back to me.

"Hey. Didn't you ask me to take you cliff diving sometime?"

I blinked. I'd completely forgotten about that.

"Well," said Jules, turning her head in the direction of the cliffs, which were visible down the coastline, "let's do it. Tomorrow will be the perfect time—it was cold today, but it will be warmer tomorrow."

"How do you know that?" I asked, frowning. "Is that another wolf thing?"

Jules laughed. "No, I'm just a Quileute who's lived here on the coast my whole life. I can just feel it when the weather's changing. The pressure."

I nodded. I thought about that. My eyes flickered toward the cliffs, and they looked even more imposing than they had on that road when we'd gone to test out our motorcycles. Not to mention the water looked cold. But I figured spending the day with Jules jumping off cliffs would be better than being left alone to drown in my thoughts. If I was lucky, I might even hear Edythe again.

I turned back to her, and I was grinning a little. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

I got up early the next morning, bundling up an extra change of clothes and smuggling them out to my truck under my jacket. I knew if Charlie ever found out about the motorcycle, I'd probably be grounded for life. If he found out about this, no doubt I'd be serving two consecutive life sentences.

 _Being young is all about rebellion,_ I consoled myself. And what Charlie didn't know couldn't hurt him—or so the new irresponsible-teenage side I was developing thought.

I tried not to get my hopes up too high. After all, Sam was the pack leader, and she could nix the whole plan with a word. Jules might not want to leave me hanging, but she might not have a choice.

Still, I was almost smiling as I pulled up to Bonnie's house and cut the engine. Jules had been right about the weather—even with gray clouds hanging low, the air was almost sultry.

Jules didn't immediately come out of the house to meet me as she usually did, which I took as a potentially bad sign. On the other hand, maybe she was just getting caught up on some much-needed sleep—I couldn't help but notice the dark circles beneath her eyes that seemed almost a permanent feature of her face these days, and I worried she was pushing herself too hard.

I knocked at the door, and I heard a muffled voice call for me to come in.

I entered to find Bonnie sitting at the kitchen table, bowl of cereal in front of her.

"Hey," I said. I paused a little awkwardly. "Jules still asleep?"

Bonnie hesitated, then shook her head. "No."

I had been about to follow up the question to ask if Sam had told her no, but something in Bonnie's tone made me stop. "Did something happen?" I said in a low voice.

Bonnie's expression was hard to read. "Emma, Jay, and Paula crossed a fresh trail early this morning," she said. "Julie and Sam took off to help. This is a good opportunity—the quarry's run himself right up against the mountains. With a little luck, this might all be over by today or tomorrow."

I stood where I was, frozen. This was what we had been waiting for, and yet—

The image of Jules coming up against Victor burned in my mind. My throat went dry and I swallowed hard. I knew my brain wasn't making logical sense, that it would be so much better to put an end to Victor now, and that I couldn't spend the rest of my life running from him. But somehow, the thought of Jules and the others just chasing, endlessly chasing without actually coming near him, without the risk of having to come up against him, was a lot more comforting.

Although Bonnie seemed pretty relaxed, I paced about the small kitchen in agitation. Eventually I sat down in front of the television, but as I flipped through the channels without seeing them, the walls of the small room seemed to close in around me, and soon I jumped up again.

"I'm going to down to the beach," I said abruptly.

"Suit yourself," I heard her say, just as I headed out the door.

Outside, the sense of claustrophobia didn't abate. The heavy clouds that covered the sky seemed to press down on my shoulders with an invisible weight, and they smothered the usual sounds of the outdoors like a blanket. As I walked down the familiar path toward the beach, it was eerily silent, no scrabbling of small animals flitting about the forest floor, or chattering of birds. Even the air was perfectly still, without the hint of a breeze.

I knew all this meant that a major storm was on the way. _The calm before the storm_ , as they said. As I tilted my head back, I saw the dark clouds churning sluggishly overhead, and in cracks in the smokey gray, I saw more clouds high above, of a threatening deep purple color, like bruises.

The moment I reached the beach, I almost wished I hadn't come. I'd been here more than enough over the last several days, pacing, thinking. It was starting to become a place that held bad memories for me, reminded me of all the things I didn't want to think about.

Like Jules, being out there, hunting Victor. I knew the wolves were strong, I knew Sam and the others knew what they were doing. And yet worry gnawed at me. _What if?_ What if something went wrong? They were dealing with a vampire here. One wrong move, and Jules might never come back.

I sat on the edge of our driftwood tree, bowing my head and pressing my clenched hands to my forehead. _Let them come back,_ I thought. _Please, let her be safe._

I almost smiled to myself. Elliot had been right. We really didn't do the worrying thing well.

At last I lifted my eyes, and my gaze fell on the cliffs on the horizon. I stared at them for several seconds, then I suddenly came to a decision before I even knew I'd been contemplating one, and I was abruptly on my feet.

If I was going to go cliff-diving today, I probably should do it before the storm hit. I had to do something; I would go crazy just sitting here. Jules would probably be disappointed not to see my first jump, but then, I imagined her exasperated laugh when I told her. She'd probably be relieved to hear I'd been out having fun instead of curled up in a ball on the beach.

I jogged back up to Bonnie's house and quickly got in my truck. Had to hurry, the clouds were starting to look a little menacing. I was smiling a little as I anticipated hearing the voice. Maybe it was better Jules wouldn't be there the first time. I would have a minute to savor it without giving away the fact I was certifiably insane.

I knew the road that would take me closest to the cliffs, but it took a little searching to find the right path that would take me out right to the ledge. I looked for forks or turnoffs that would take me to the lower jump point, which I knew was the one Jules probably would have taken me, at least the first time. But the path wound up in a single line, and before I knew it, the dirt road had fanned out into the stone precipice of the higher cliff.

As I got out of the truck, I immediately felt the change in the weather. The sky was darker now than it had been when I'd been down at the beach. A slight wind had picked up and few droplets splattered against my face. The storm was almost here. No time to look for another way down now.

I slowly approached the edge, and peered down at the water below. It was a little hard to make out from here, but the water didn't look quite as still as the waters out by La Push beach had been. The waves were starting to pick up in the coming storm, but they didn't look too high yet.

As I saw just exactly how high up I was, it occurred to me how reckless this was. I really should wait for Jules, just in case something happened. If I wasn't careful, I could hit wrong and break an arm when I hit the water, or even knock myself out.

But I could feel the excitement building in my chest at the thought of the rush on the way down, the wind whipping in my face, Edythe's voice in my ear—

It really wasn't that dangerous. I had never been good at anything athletic, but swimming was the one exception. My mom always said I was like a fish when I got in the water. Reading _Twenty Leagues Under the Sea_ over and over, as a kid I'd practiced hard at my swimming lessons, daydreaming of someday being one of the crew on Captain Nemo's ship. It would be dangerous if I waited for the storm to really kick up the waves down there, but not if I went right now.

I kicked off my shoes, and went right up to the edge, staring down over the rocks.

" _Don't do this, Beau."_

I felt my mouth spread into a wide smile. It was amazing, really, how perfect these weird hallucinations were. It wasn't like when I just recalled a memory of her voice, soundless, more likes words on a page than really her speaking. It had that beautiful velvet texture and musical touch that made her voice so much like the voice of an angel, just like I remembered.

 _Come on,_ I answered, with a bit of a taunting smile. _It's only a little jump._

" _Beau, this is the stupidest, most reckless thing you have ever done,"_ she said severely. But there was a hint of real fear. Like she already knew she wasn't going to change my mind.

 _So what if it is?_ I answered casually. _This is what it means to me human—living for the rush of the moment. You wanted me to be human, right?_

" _Please, Beau,"_ she begged. _"Please."_

I raised my arms straight out in front of me, clapping them together and forming a point with my fingers as though I were going to dive. However, it was always better to go feet first, when jumping the first time. I was trying to be reckless, not stupid.

I crouched down just on the edge for added spring. The wind was stronger now, blowing about the rain that had begun and soaking my clothes. I didn't want to think about how cold the water would be. I was glad I had a dry pair of pants and shirt waiting for me in my truck.

" _Please,"_ Edythe whispered, one last time. _"For me."_

 _I am doing this for you,_ I replied. Then I swung back my arms for added momentum, and launched myself from the edge, Edythe's scream of terror and horror following me into the abyss.

It was an amazing feeling. The wind buffeted my clothes and hair, and an overwhelming sense of exhilaration expanded my chest as I twisted in spirals in midair, like a rocket crashing to earth. This was great, this was awesome. Oddly, it wasn't even half so terrifying as being on the motorcycle for the first time. Jules had been right—it really was a rush.

However, a moment before I hit the waves, I noticed something. They looked a lot higher down here than they had from up on the cliff.

I sliced through the surface of the dark water like a javelin. It was even colder than I'd expected it to be, but that only seemed to add to my high. Amazing. I'd been born for this. I couldn't wait to tell Jules—and I couldn't wait to try it again.

I spread out my arms, kicking myself with practiced ease, ready to head back toward the surface—and that was when the current caught me.

The water dragged and battered me like a solid force, closing around me and jerking me back and forth like a rag doll. Of course, I'd been to beaches before on vacations with my mom, and I remembered that the best way to avoid the riptide was to swim parallel to the beach rather than make the mistake of struggling for shore—but I was completely submerged in the dark waters, disoriented, and I couldn't tell which direction the surface was, let alone the shore.

I kept my mouth firmly closed, trying to hold on to my last bit of air.

Edythe's voice was beside me, frantic.

" _Beau, you've got to keep swimming. You've got to get to the surface."_

 _Which way?_ I thought bleakly. I couldn't tell. I couldn't see anything but darkness. And even if I could tell, I wasn't sure I would have the strength to fight current.

I never would have guessed water could be so strong. I'd never guessed when I was jumping from the cliffs that it was the churning water beneath the terrifyingly long drop that would be the real menace. It was like being in the grips of a vampire.

 _At least it's not Victor_ , I thought vaguely.

" _Stop that,"_ Edythe ordered. _"Don't give up. You are going to live, Beau. You're going to live a long life. Fight!"_

I tried. I really did. I kicked with everything I was, and tried to pull myself from the current with long paddling strokes of my arms. But it was dark everywhere, and the buffeting of the water was slamming into me from every direction. My brain was starting to go fuzzy from lack of oxygen.

" _Fight!"_ Edythe shouted again and her voice sounded unusually close. _"Stay awake, Beau, whatever you do, don't pass out. Keep fighting!"_

But I was running out of fight. The strength was gone from my limbs, and my consciousness was dimming. However, it was strange. In my final moments, I no longer felt any fear. Instead, I felt almost peaceful.

It was strange. Since Edythe had left, I'd often felt like I couldn't breathe, like I was drowning. And now here I was, really drowning, and it wasn't half so painful as all these months had been.

Familiar words from _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_ I'd read a hundred times drifted back to me in bits and pieces.

" _The sea is everything...The sea is only the embodiment of a supernatural and wonderful experience. It is nothing but love and emotion...the Living Infinite."_

Edythe's painfully perfect, beautiful face suddenly crystallized inches from my own, in a delusion more clear than it had ever had been, and suddenly I could easily believe it. Her eyes were pained and terrified as she gazed into mine and as I stared back, I felt strangely content.

So I barely felt it when something hit me in the side, and I realized vaguely that the current had thrown me against the hard rock of the cliff face. The very last bit of air I'd kept in my lungs rushed out in a cloud of silver bubbles. I sank, slowly, as the ocean drew me down to its depths.

 _Goodbye, Edythe,_ I called to the faintly glowing, angelic figure as she watched me go. _I want you to know, I don't regret anything._

Then my eyes closed, and my last sliver of consciousness was lost in the darkness.

* * *

A/N: And, there's some more progress. (As we get closer to the end, it feels like we're going slower and slower. I guess that's my impatience talking. x3)

So, I got The official illustrated guide for the Twilight saga from the library recently, and finally got around to reading it (well, most of it). I figured the background on the characters and more fleshing out on the history of the Twilight world might be useful. (Some of it I already knew from reading on the Twilight wiki, but I took some notes on things that I think I should be aware of. Hopefully I'll be able to keep those details in my mind...)

But! Anyway, about the minor change concerning the wolves' transformation and their clothes.

Mainly this is for convenience. SM's way clearly makes more logical sense, but I'm looking ahead to certain scenes that might be in a Breaking Dawn Reimagined, which might be a bit tricky if I left things as they were. (I'm calling it institution of the Animorph rule—In the series Animorphs, when an animal-morpher changes form, s/he can change wearing clothing, as long as it's fairly skintight. However, ordinary clothes tend to get shredded or left behind, and shoes are hopeless.)

I'm going to try to keep these kinds of changes to canon to a bare minimum, but I decided this one would help me out a lot. (And I'm also with Beau. I'm worried about those poor girls out there in the woods. I want to do something to help them. x3)

Hey, thanks so much for all your wonderful comments last chapter, I really appreciate it. If you have a minute, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! :J

Posted 4/19/16


	17. Captain

A/N: Haha, sometimes it feels like there aren't enough hours in the day. (So many projects to work on, I wish I could work on them all... Plus I have a dentist's appointment tomorrow too, which will take up some of my time. Oh well, I guess taking care of your teeth is important, too. xD And I guess it's a good thing I don't finish my projects too quickly, since it's nice to always have things to work on.)

Thanks so much for reading so far, I'm glad you're having as much fun as I am! See you at the end! C:

* * *

Chapter 16: Captain

The next I was aware, I felt something against my mouth. My chest expanded, then something was pressing down on me, again and again, in a rhythmic pattern.

"Come on," muttered a low, tense voice. "Breathe."

There was a second voice, close to the first, insistent, frantic. "Wake up, Beau! You've got to."

 _Where's Edythe?_ I thought vaguely, and felt a sharp stab of pain at the thought that I had lost her again.

With what little strength I had, I forced myself to roll onto my side, and I coughed violently, spraying water everywhere. I had to sit halfway up as I hacked and gasped, until what little was left of my dinner the night before came up on wet sand.

"Beau," cried a relieved voice, and I felt a pair of hot arms around my torso, squeezing the air from my lungs again.

"Jules," I gasped. My throat felt like it was on fire, and my voice grated against my throat.

Jules pulled back and I also saw Samantha leaning over me, her expression impossible to read.

My eyes flickered about me as I struggled to get my brain working and catch up with what had happened. However, exhaustion overtook me again, and I laid back down on the sand, just concentrating on breathing.

"I think he'll be okay," Sam said, getting to her feet. "But he's turning blue. I think we should get him out of this cold as soon as we can."

Jules had a got hand against my face, and the influx of warmth kept my teeth from chattering.

"Yeah," Jules said. "Don't worry, I've got him."

I felt a pair of arms slide underneath me, and Jules lifted me from the sand with surprising ease. It felt strange, being carried like this by a girl, and a person who was smaller than I was, but my entire body was completely spent, and I doubted I could walk even with support, so I didn't argue. A second ago, if my head was clear, I might have been wondering how Jules could have pulled me from those powerful currents—since I figured she must have—but of course I'd forgotten her freakish wolf strength.

"All right?" said Sam. "Need help?"

"No, I'm fine," said Jules. Even bearing my weight, her voice didn't sound strained. "You better get over to the hospital. I'll meet you later."

Sam nodded once and quietly slipped away, back up the beach.

I stared back vaguely at the shoreline, and as Jules carried me off, I saw the foamy water lick and writhe up the edge after us, as though irritated I'd gotten away. My eyes flickered up to the dark water a little further out, and I noticed a flash of color just on the surface. Orange and red, like a ball of fire. It looked out of place amidst the dark gray of the angry ocean and heavy clouds above, and I squinted, trying to get a better look, but maybe it was some kind of optical illusion because by then it was gone. I shook my head, and my eyes went back to Jules.

"How did you find me?" I asked. My voice scraped against my throat and I sounded like a dying car engine.

"The bloodsucker got away from us," she said. "Escaped into the water—they're good swimmers, we can't fight them there. I know how much time you spend on the beach, so Sam and I raced back here to find you. The rain pretty much washed away your smell, but when I saw the truck was gone from the house, I sort of guessed where you might have gone."

"Sorry," I muttered. "Guess that wasn't too brilliant."

Jules shook her head. "You are a complete idiot, Beau. Jumping alone, _and_ in the middle of a storm—what, did you have a death wish?"

"I thought I was beating it," I muttered. "The water looked calmer from up high. And I'm a good swimmer. Usually."

Jules sighed. "Just swear you aren't going to do that again. Wait for me to be there. And wait for a clear day. Seriously, Beau. I won't be able to concentrate if I think you're going around jumping off cliffs behind my back."

I lifted one of my limp arms to my head, and managed a weak salute.

Jules's smiled slightly, but I noticed for the first time there was something else in her eyes. She looked distracted, worried. And I had a feeling it was about something other than me jumping off cliffs.

"What?" I whispered. I suddenly remembered what Jules had said to Sam about going to the hospital, and I felt a new fear seize hold of my chest. "Is someone hurt?" I felt my face go pale, and I whispered, "You fought with Victor."

Jules shook her head. "No, like I said, he got away. I think we were right, the bloodsucker really doesn't want to go up against us directly. No...it's Holly Clearwater. She had a heart attack this morning."

I sucked in a sharp breath. "Is she okay?"

Jules didn't meet my eyes. "From what I heard, it doesn't look good."

I didn't know what to say. Something cold had slid into my stomach, and I felt like a jerk. Something like this going on, and I went and nearly got myself killed feeding my adrenaline addiction. The last thing they needed right now was to be worrying about me.

"Does my dad know yet?" I whispered.

Jules nodded, her eyes still on the path ahead of us. "Yeah, he's over at the hospital with Saul and my mom."

"Oh," I mumbled. We spent the rest of the walk in silence, and I felt the heavy, icy drops of rain against my face. I shivered.

It wasn't until we reached the front door of Jules' house that she spoke again.

"Can you walk?" she asked.

I nodded. "I think so. A short way, anyway."

Jules carefully set me down on the doorstep, then opened the door and we went on in. Jules kept a careful eye on me as I staggered over to the couch and half fell onto it with a sigh.

I could still hear the hammering of the rain on the metal roof after Jules shut the door behind us. "Just relax a minute," she said, already halfway toward the side hall that led to her room. "I'll get you some dry clothes—I have few extra baggy ones that should fit you."

I nodded slowly, but by then she was already gone. I looked around the dark room. It felt empty without Bonnie there. I pictured her, in the waiting room at the hospital, sitting next to my dad. I felt my throat tighten at the image.

Jules returned moments later with a towel and pair of sweatpants with an elastic waistband, along with a big T-shirt with a racing car and the words _Indianapolis 500_ stamped across the top.

"I'll let you change," she said, starting to turn, but I found strangely I didn't want her to leave, and without thinking I reached up and grabbed her wrist. She glanced down at my hand, surprised.

I hesitated, embarrassed and not sure what to say.

However, Jules seemed to understand and she sank down to sit at the base of the couch. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. I noticed the dark circles rimming her eyes. She looked as exhausted, and I wondered when she had last slept.

I was tired, too. My wet clothes were heavy and uncomfortable, but somehow I just couldn't seem to get my body to move. My eyelids felt like lead.

"You really should change," Jules murmured, eyes still closed, looking like she was just on the verge of drifting off. "You'll give yourself a cold."

"Yeah," I mumbled back. However, I stayed where I was a moment longer.

I heard the moment when Jules's breathing turned deep and even, and I shook my head. She was right; if I didn't change, I might go and get myself sick. With my luck it would be pneumonia.

Picturing myself being wheeled into the hospital, I finally found the strength to sit up and I began peeling off my shirt. The wet material clung to my clammy skin, and the back was covered in grit and sand. I hoped I'd remember to come back and vacuum Bonnie's couch when I got the chance.

Jules's clothes fit well enough. The ankles of the sweatpants had been rolled up, as apparently they were a little long on Jules, so when I rolled them down they were just about the right length. I discarded my wet clothes on the wooden floor, laying them near the radiator with the hope they would dry faster, and I was relieved by how much warmer I felt. I laid down on my back on the short couch, folding up the towel and placing it on the armrest for my head, and bending my knees at the end so I would fit.

I stared up at the ceiling, thoughts of Holly Clearwater and the rest of her family drifting through my mind. No matter what the odds, I hoped she would pull through. What would it do to her husband Saul if she didn't make it? Not to mention her kids, Lee, Sarah...

The warmth of the nearby radiator made me feel drowsy, and the sound of Jules's deep, even breathing was oddly soothing. Before I knew it, I'd drifted off to sleep.

For the first time in what felt like forever, my dreams were perfectly normal. Just a disjointed series of images, flickers of old memories. Warm Phoenix sun beating down on newly laid asphalt, my mom's smiling face, an old tree house, a wall of mirrors, a flame sitting on choppy dark waters...each faded almost as soon as it came.

Only the very last image lingered a little longer than the others. A man, standing with his hands clasped behind his back at the helm of a great submarine, the blue light of the surrounding ocean filtering in around him.

It didn't have anything to do with anything, but when my eyes opened, the enigmatic Captain Nemo was on my mind.

Jules was still asleep. I noticed she'd shifted slightly, so now she was laying down on the floor beside the couch with her head resting on the crook of her arm. I felt an instant stab of guilt—if I'd been thinking, I should have let her had the couch, or at least part of it.

I turned my head slightly. The house was darker than it had been before, and the sky outside the window was black, either because it was that late now, or because of the storm, I wasn't sure. I could still hear the wind howling and the rain pounding against the roof.

My throat was on fire, and I needed to get up and get a drink, or at the very least check to see if my own clothes were dry enough to change back into. But instead I just laid where I was, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Jules's even breathing and thinking I would have liked nothing better than to just sit here and never move again.

My thoughts wandered, and I found myself thinking again of Captain Nemo from _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_. Losing absolutely everything, the family he loved so much—then building himself a submarine and taking off into the darkness of the ocean depths, cutting himself off from the world.

I wondered if the captain ever could have been induced to go back to land. What if, instead of just the three hapless men he saved from the shipwreck—the professor, his servant, and the sea hunter—there was a fourth captive? What if she was different from the others, a bright spot, who brought sunlight even to the very heart of the ocean depths?

Of course, nothing could replace what he had lost, or erase the scars he carried with him. Nothing would make him forget the pain of seeing everything he loved destroyed. But what if he had met someone new? Someone who warmed him, made him forget his rage, his thirst for vengeance. Someone, who could heal his heart just enough to give him hope of returning to civilization and living an ordinary life again.

I almost laughed at myself. It was a pointless thing to wonder about, really. The captain was who he was, and would not find solace. That was why people who read the book both admired and feared him, rather than saw him as a tragic figure to be pitied. He knew his purpose, and he would never let himself forget the intensity of the emotions that drove him. He would never deviate from his course.

And yet, this wasn't a book, and we weren't characters playing out some predetermined storyline. If Captain Nemo was a real person, would he have been better off...letting go?

I shook my head. I didn't want to think about this anymore, so I forced it from my mind. Instead, my wandering thoughts took me back to the cliffs. And they wandered back even further, to before that, the motorcycles, and even wound all the way back to Port Angeles, when I'd approached those people outside the bar.

I'd been pretty irresponsible lately, now that I thought about it. I really could have gotten myself in a bad way, maybe even killed. How would that have been for Charlie? Hearing about what was happening with Holly Clearwater, it was suddenly real, just how easy it would be to die. Life was dangerous enough without me going out of the way to seek out ways to put my fragile human body in harm's way.

I realized abruptly that something had to change. I couldn't keep acting like this, like some rebellious, out-of-control teenager. It wasn't right, and it wasn't fair to Charlie, or anyone else here in Forks who cared about me.

The idea of completely letting go of the hallucinations was hard. They helped me still feel tied to the past, helped continue to reassure me it was real. But...

My eyes flickered down to where Jules still lay, curled up on the floor. She was snoring softly.

Maybe I could swear off of them—I knew I would never forget, but maybe I could learn to be strong, responsible again. If there was someone who I loved to be around, someone I wanted to make happy, maybe I could be just strong enough to do the right thing.

I stared down at her for a long moment, watching her shoulder gently rise and fall. Then I looked away.

It was too soon to make any definite decisions. My thoughts and feelings were too much a tangled up mess at the moment to do anything. But I would think about it some more. And eventually, I would have to decide, what I was willing or unwilling to do without.

My thoughts wandered aimlessly for awhile. Memories of the fall from the cliff were still fresh in my mind, and I couldn't seem to force them out. The feeling of the wind whipping my face and the cold water closing around my head didn't feel quite so good in my memory as they had as they'd happened, now tainted with guilt as I pictured the mess I would have left behind if I'd gotten myself killed. However, I also remembered Edythe's face in front of me, clear as crystal, and I wanted to linger there longer, but I forced myself past it. I remembered something against my mouth—Sam giving me CPR I guessed, and I winced at that. I remembered the feeling of Jules warm arms around me, then carrying me back up the beach. I remembered that odd spot of flame in the water, so much brighter than the landscape around it, so out of place...It couldn't have actually been fire, I knew that much. I didn't think I'd been hallucinating, but then what—

My thoughts were interrupted as I heard the groan of a car engine and tires in the thick mud outside. The car came to a stop outside the house, and I heard the car doors click open a moment later. I heard Bonnie talking with someone else, her voice uncharacteristically low.

I thought about sitting up, but again I couldn't seem to find the energy, and a moment later the front door opened and the light flicked on. Jules went from being dead to the world to being immediately awake and alert, and she was on her feet so fast I barely saw her move. She spun toward the door as though expecting an attack.

"Sorry," grunted Bonnie. "Did we wake you?"

I raised my head to study Bonnie's face, and as I took in her exhausted, haggard expression, I knew.

Bonnie looked at both of us bleakly. "Holly," she began, and her normally even, stoic voice cracked. "She didn't make it."

Samantha came in behind Bonnie, pushing her wheelchair into the room, to get out of the rain.

Jules stood there for a moment, her eyes wide, shocked. Then she crossed the room in two strides and wordlessly took one of her mom's hands between hers. She gripped it tightly. As she gazed into her mother's tired face, her eyes shone with deep emotion.

I didn't know what to do. I'd gotten up from the couch, and now I stood there uncertainly, feeling like an intruder as I watched them.

I turned my eyes to Sam's face instead. Her normally cool features looked exhausted, and her brow was furrowed with pain. I asked her in a low voice, "Have you seen my dad?"

Sam nodded. "He's still over at the hospital, with Saul. There are...quite a few arrangements to be made."

I looked away, and my throat burned. I felt something sting my eye.

"I'd better be getting back," Sam murmured to Bonnie. She turned and slipped back out the door.

Bonnie had reached up and given her daughter one pat on the back, before she pulled away from her and rolled herself in the direction of the kitchen.

Jules stared after her for a long minute. Her eyes were moist and slightly red. She glanced at me, where I was still standing awkwardly by the couch, and she reached up to wipe her eyes roughly with the palm of her hand. She sniffed once, then came to stand beside me. She looked up at me, and I thought she looked like she didn't know what to say any more than I did.

"You look pale," she said at last. "Maybe I should have taken you to the hospital or something."

I shook my head. "I'm fine." My voice still grated against my rough throat, but I barely felt it.

Wordlessly, I reached out my hand, and after a moment, she took it. Jules pressed her face into my shoulder for a moment, and she breathed deeply. She gripped my shoulder holding me to her.

After a moment, she pulled away and looked up. "I'll go get your truck," she said quietly, and her voice sounded almost as hoarse as mine. "You probably want to be home when Charlie gets back."

I nodded listlessly. She stood there for a moment longer, still holding my hand, before at last she turned and headed back out into the rain.

While I waited for Jules to get back, I changed back into my regular clothes—I was relieved to find them perfectly dry again, if a bit gritty with sand. After that, I sat listlessly on the couch for a while. I was anxious to leave now—Bonnie was in the kitchen, sitting silently in her wheelchair, and I felt like she wanted to be left alone with her grief. And I suddenly really needed to see my dad.

Jules got back sooner than I expected, and she kept close by as we headed out to the truck, pressing closer whenever I shivered in the rain. Without discussion, she went to the driver's side door and I went to the passenger's. When we were in, she reached over and took my hand, and I didn't pull away.

"How will you get home?" I asked in a low voice.

Jules shook her head. "Not going home. We've got to the get the leech. He got pretty deep into our territory—too deep. This is our chance."

I felt a shiver down my spine, and concentrated very hard on the landscape outside the window.

It was a quiet ride, neither Jules nor I talking much. However, I was wide awake now, my mind alert and hard at work. Going again through the considerations that had passed through my head earlier.

There was no question by this point that Jules was vital to me—there were so many things I loved about her, so many things I wasn't exactly sure what I would do if I lost. When Edythe had left, I'd become something like Captain Nemo. I'd dived deep into the ocean, cutting myself off from the world. But when I'd surfaced to breathe, I'd run into Jules. And I felt if I lost her now, I wouldn't just dive down to the depths of the ocean again—my entire ship would sink.

However, I also knew only too well that what I was doing wasn't fair. Jules knew I needed her, and I liked to think she needed me too now. I liked to think I brought some light to her new dark world the same way she did mine. But I knew this best-friends thing couldn't just go on indefinitely. It wasn't right. Jules was a werewolf, but she was a normal girl, too, and she must want to find love and happiness—if I wasn't going to give it to her, then I shouldn't keep standing here, where I might be blocking the way of someone else. Someone who would give her a love and happiness that was far more complete.

The way things stood now, what I was doing wasn't fair. So I had to make a decision—either step back and make way for someone else...or let myself be to Jules what she wanted me to be. Love her—at least in the way which it was left to me to love.

If I did take that step, I wasn't about to go into it half-cocked. I had to commit myself absolutely, just as I had committed myself following that strange evening in Port Angeles. First, there couldn't be any more lingering secrets between us. I would have to tell her everything, from the beginning. I would have to tell the truth, just how deep the wounds went, how messed up I really was. I'd have to tell her about the delusions I'd been having, how I'd been seeking them out. I would even have to be honest that I wasn't sure if I'd ever really completely get over the one that had left. I knew some of those things would be painful for her to hear.

But somehow, I knew. I knew she'd accept me in spite of everything.

This wouldn't be about trying something out to see if it worked. Once I had decided to do this, that would be it. Would I do it, though? Could I?

Jules stopped the truck in front of my house, cutting the engine so it was suddenly silent. She turned and studied my face, the expression in my eyes, and like she so often could, she seemed to detect some of my thoughts there.

Jules squeezed my hand hard, and she slowly slid across the seat, out from behind to the steering wheel, so we were right beside each other. She stared up earnestly into my face, resting her hands on my shoulders, then she pressed her face into my shoulder, and she breathed deeply in.

It felt good, being close like this. Like we were unified, two parts of one greater whole. One always there to be strong when the other was weak. I remembered how before I almost wished Jules had been born my sister. But really, I'd just been wanting the right to be close, to have some kind of tie—she wasn't like a sister to me. She never had been.

I thought she was probably thinking about her mom and Holly Clearwater, but she said softly, "Sorry, Beau, I know you don't...feel like I do. But I'm just so glad you're okay." She raised her head, and I felt her cheek against mine.

I could feel my heart pounding in my throat, my stomach was twisting in knots. Memories of Edythe flickered in my mind.

Edythe didn't care what I did. She didn't love me like I loved her, and she never had. The only thing holding me back was my own sense of unswerving loyalty. The fact that I had sworn myself absolutely, committed myself as much as if I spoken our wedding vows.

I felt Jules press her lips gently to my cheek. All I would have to do was pull back a little and press my lips lightly against hers. That would be enough to tell her what my decision was.

Could I do it? Could I betray myself, break from the eternal vow I had sworn, in order to make Jules happy? To salvage what was left of my life, to at least live a life as a cripple instead of living no life at all?

And then, as though I were in immediate danger, Edythe's voice wafted up to me, echoing in my mind.

" _Be happy, Beau."_

I blinked, startled, and my entire body went rigid with shock.

Jules felt the change immediately, and she quickly pulled away, going back over to the driver's seat. Without looking at me, she opened the truck door.

I wanted to tell her to wait, wait just a minute, but I was distracted as Edythe's voice lingered in my head.

Cool air rushed through the cab of the truck, making me shiver.

Jules suddenly let out a sharp gasp, and she stared into the darkness outside, eyes wide and horrified. "Oh no," she breathed. "Oh no, oh no."

"What?" I asked, alarmed by the look on her face.

She slammed the door shut and twisted the keys in the ignition so hard and fast that the truck's engine sputtered and faltered. "Vampire," she spat.

I felt as though the air had been knocked from my lungs, and for a second my voice failed me. "What?" I said at last, my voice hoarse. "How do you know?"

"I can smell it," she said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were wide and wild, and they scanned the dark, empty street. Her entire body was quivering, as though she were planning to go wolf and hunt the monster down right this moment. However, her eyes shot back to me, and she seemed to come to a decision.

"Let's get out of here," she said. She twisted the key again, and this time the truck engine came to life with a roar. The tires squealed on the pavement as Jules spun the wheel to the limit, and the truck swung around so fast the world spun in a blur around us.

However, as the front headlights passed across the pavement and the line of the black forest beyond, I saw something. A black car parked across the street from my house—a car I knew.

"Wait!" I blurted. My fingers fumbled with my seat belt. "Wait a minute!"

Jules had already hit the gas petal, and the truck roared down the small street like a panicked elephant.

However, I knew that car. It was a black Mercedes, an S55 AMG. I'd been in it before—more times than I could count.

"Stop!" I said again, and this time I reached over and grabbed the steering wheel. "Turn around!"

"Are you crazy?" Jules demanded, slapping my hand away.

"It's not Victor after all," I said, and I realized my voice had risen with excitement. "I know that car back there—it's Carine's car!"

Jules's expression froze. The truck slowed a little, but didn't stop. Her eyes were fixed on the dark road in front of us, and I watched as the horror slowly drained, replaced by ice.

"Come on," I said quietly. "Please, take me back." I hesitated. I tried to keep my voice calm as I added, "We should find out why she's here. Maybe there were some loose ends she still needed to tie up."

The truck rolled to a stop in the middle of the road. I struggled to make my face a mask of indifference, to conceal the sudden fierce surge of joy—but I couldn't. Even if my voice was nonchalant, I knew my expression was glowing, radiant.

Jules sat where she was for a second, staring out the windshield at the dark road. Then she abruptly spun to face me. As she looked in my face and read the look there, I saw different emotions warring in her eyes. Fury, loathing, disgust...hurt.

A sudden quiver ran through her body, and her fists clenches around the steering wheel. However, she closed her eyes, focusing on keeping herself together.

"How do you know it's not a trick?" she demanded.

I shook my head. "If Victor could get this close, he wouldn't bother stealing Carine's car. It's Carine, I'm positive."

Jules gritted her teeth. "Even if it is her, she's still vampire," she hissed. "And you still want to go in there?"

I looked away. "Yeah...I do. Please, Jules, take me back."

Jules was silent for a long moment. Then she roughly put the truck into neutral. The truck door opened, and she got out into the rain. Over her shoulder, she spat, "Take yourself back."

She turned her back on me, and started toward the dark forest.

The cold wet air curled into the truck from outside, and I felt a spasming chill down my spine. I scrambled across the seat, leaning my head out into the rain.

"Wait!" I shouted after her. "Please, Jules. Don't—"

I choked on the words, and I didn't know what I was going to say. Don't leave? Don't hate me for betraying you?

My voice made Jules paused. She looked back over her shoulder, and this time her expression was more sullen than angry.

"Look, Beau," she muttered. "I can't go back there. We might have some kind of treaty, but they're still our mortal enemies—every single one of them."

She turned her head back so I couldn't see her face. "I have to report this to Sam as soon as possible. If they're back, it changes everything—we can't be caught on their territory."

I relaxed slightly, but I felt a new anxiety replace the one from a moment ago. "It's not like that," I said. "It's not a war."

"Really hope you don't die," she said curtly, then took off running into the darkness. As she did, I saw her shaking form blur.

I stayed where I was for a long moment, frozen in place, staring after the place she had just disappeared. I felt the rain soaking my hair, and dripping down my chin. My gaze flickered down, to look at the face I saw reflected in the truck side mirror. I watched the eyes harden with distaste, unable to stand the person I saw looking back any more than I could—that pathetic guy who pulled people along on a string just to protect himself, and hurt them at a moment's notice.

However, my thoughts flickered again to the car on the other side of the street. And though it made me like the guy in the mirror even less, for the moment painful thoughts of Jules faded to the back of my mind, and I felt a tremor of excitement. I drew myself in and shut the door, then turned around to head back.

The house was unusually dark when I pulled the truck up and turned off the headlights. Charlie must have run out of the house in such a hurry that he'd forgotten to leave the porch lamp on, and long, deep shadows covered the entire drive.

I suddenly felt a flicker of doubt. What if Jules had been right? What if it _was_ a trick, and he was in there, waiting for me?

 _That would serve you right,_ I thought. But as I looked at the black Mercedes again, I was certain it was Carine's. I doubted Victor would have risked stealing one of the Cullen's cars for the sole purpose of fooling me. If I'd been alone, it wasn't like I would have had any idea of a vampire being in there anyway.

Still, I approached the house warily, my hands shaking slightly as I turned the key in the lock. I pushed the door carefully inward, but the hallway was dark, and I could see nothing.

I slipped quickly inside, though I didn't shut the door all the way, afraid of the noise it would make. I squinted through the darkness, but still couldn't make anything out. Maybe there wasn't anyone here. Maybe Carine had parked the car here, but then left to go somewhere else. I felt my entire being deflate at the thought.

However, as I groped in the dark for the light switch, an image flickered in the back of my mind. An image that had been bothering me all day, but I hadn't been able to figure out.

A spark of flame on the dark water, as Jules carried me away from the shore.

Jules had said that Victor escaped them by jumping into the water. That she'd come running back because she was afraid I would be in danger if I was pacing the beach as I usually was.

I froze where I was. Of course. Why hadn't I made the connection before now? That bit of red out there—it had been Victor. Right out there, in the harbor with us. Probably the only thing that had kept him from attacking was the fact that Jules and Samantha were both there, and he didn't like the odds of two on one. But to think, we were that close...Victor had been that close...

The light abruptly came on, though my hand still hadn't found the switch.

I blinked at the sudden light, and I saw someone standing there in the hall. Waiting for me.

* * *

A/N: Ah! And we're getting closer still...(I know, I say that every time, and that just makes it feel longer. xD)

Thanks so much for reading, and if you have a moment, let me know what you thought! See you next time~ C:

Posted 4/25/16


	18. Visitor

A/N: Hey! I worked on this chapter last week, but I didn't quite get it finished before the work week started, so it ended up getting pushed back. Hopefully I was able to address everything I thought needed to be worked on...

My sister had her finals week in college the week before last, and she somehow managed to survive. (Being an English-Lit major, she had four ten-pages+ papers to get done, plus final exams...I think she's been permanently traumatized.) Good luck to everyone still taking end-of-year tests and other exams.

Thanks for reading, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 17: Visitor

He stood there in the middle of the hallway, features unnaturally pale, still as a statue, gazing at me mutely with eyes black as onyx.

He was the best thing I had seen in a long time.

"Archie?" I said haltingly. Then, without another thought in my head, I launched myself at him.

If Archie had been an ordinary guy, the tackle probably would have knocked him flat on his back. But of course it was like hitting a brick wall.

I threw my arms around him in a bro hug, slapping him on the back and when I pulled back again, I kept an arm draped around his shoulders, grinning like an idiot. It was a good thing Charlie couldn't see me right now, because I probably looked like a drunk.

"Hey, man," said Archie, turning and giving me the strangest look. He smiled a bit, but his eyes were still slightly wide.

I actually felt tears sting my eyes, but I reached up to surreptitiously thumb them away. "What are you doing here?" I asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Archie leaned away from me slightly, mouth tight. "Two things first. One, let's please have this conversation with you not hanging all over me. I like you too, but I haven't eaten in—well, I don't remember how long. And I don't think either of us want you to end up on the menu."

I noticed again that Archie's eyes were solid black.

"Oh," I said, quickly backing off. "Sorry. I just—you know, got a bit excited."

Archie nodded, his tense form relaxing a little as I moved back a few feet. "Yeah, I noticed that."

"What's the other thing?" I wanted to know.

Archie rolled his eyes, then gave me a hard look, folding his arms across this chest. "Second thing—how in the heck are you alive?"

I stared at him blankly. "Come again?"

Archie rubbed his forehead. "See," he said, in a bright voice that didn't in any way disguise his mounting irritation, "I had this weird vision. Just kind of sitting at home, minding my own business, and, _bam_ —it hits me. I'm seeing this skinny guy, standing on the edge of this cliff. Really close to the edge. Then, get this—he _jumps_. Starting to come back now, Beau, my man?"

"Oh." I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly. "That."

Archie raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, that. What the heck?"

I paused, my mouth hanging slightly open as I tried to think how to explain it without sounding like I needed to be put in a padded room.

"Ah!" Archie vigorously rubbed the stubble on his head, looking frustrated. "I told her something like this would happen. I _told_ her. But no, she extorts a measly little promise from you, and she thinks that's good enough. And she even bans me from following your future, so we won't be tempted to interfere any more than we already have. Course, just because I'm not consciously keeping tabs on someone doesn't mean things don't just come to me sometimes—especially where my best bud is concerned. I was just like—oh crap. Crap crap _crap_. I knew I could never get here in time, but I seriously just had to do something, and I figured someone should be here to help your dad out, and I just get here to wait for him to get back—then you come sauntering up like you've just been out for a little stroll along the beach."

I tried to get a word in edgewise, but Archie kept going, and I could see the explanation was quickly headed toward a rant.

"That was the most moronic thing I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot of stupid things. Seriously, did you stop for a second to think what that stunt would have done to your dad? And what about my sister? Do you have the slightest clue how Edy would have felt if—"

I probably did deserve a telling off, but I was determined it would be for the right reasons.

"Hey," I said loudly, and he finally broke off. He stared back at me, waiting. I cleared my throat and continued, "It wasn't suicide. It was just a fun thing...or it was supposed to be. It kind of went bad—I didn't realize the currents would be that strong."

Archie didn't look convinced. He jabbed me in the chest with a finger. "Nice try. Just man up and admit it."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "It was dumb, okay? But Jules and some of the other girls down at La Push have gone cliff diving before, and they never had a problem. I swear, I wasn't trying to get myself killed."

Archie regarded me suspiciously, arms still folded. "Okay," he said. "Let's just pretend for the moment I believe you. Still doesn't explain how you're here. And alive. Sounds like you _did_ just about drown."

I nodded. "I was under quite a little while, but someone came and pulled me out. You know Julie Black? She's a girl down at La Push, Bonnie Black's daughter."

Archie frowned deeply as he considered this. "Huh," he muttered to himself. "If that's what happened, I should have seen that. Why didn't I?"

I shrugged. "Maybe you just didn't watch the vision long enough."

Archie shook his head. "It doesn't work like that. I probably saw it less than a half hour before it happened, if that—you made the decision to go pretty last minute, right? As I was getting on my flight, it was already close to happening. I kept watching, watching to see if you'd somehow miraculously find a way to come up—but you never did. Right up until the last minute. If someone pulled you out, I should have seen it."

I didn't know how to reply. I just shrugged again.

Archie was frowning into space. However, he blinked, and suddenly looked at me. Eyes slightly narrowed, he leaned in and very deliberately sniffed my shoulder.

"Um," I said, drawing back automatically. "What? Am I back on the menu?"

Archie wrinkled his nose slightly and pulled away, then snorted. "Not smelling like that you're not. You stink, man."

I suddenly remembered the grime still on my clothes, and that I'd thrown up at least once. I scowled a bit, annoyed. "I almost drowned today, remember? Cut me a little slack."

However, Archie was frowning again, that perplexed, thoughtful frown.

"Hey," he said. "You were with someone when you were outside, weren't you? Who was it?"

"Julie Black," I said. "She's the one who got me out of the water. I'd be dead if it wasn't for her. I was supposed to wait for her so we could do the cliff diving thing together, but..."

I trailed off as the image of Jules's last expression flashed in my thoughts, and I felt something icy drop in my stomach.

Archie was studying me closely, and he raised an eyebrow. "Wait," he said. "This is a girl we're talking about, right? If you couldn't take the currents, how did she manage it?"

I shook my head, trying to get a handle on my suddenly roiling emotions. "Jules is pretty strong," I said slowly. "Stronger than I am." I added with a bit of a smile, "She could beat me up any day of the week."

Archie must have sensed in my tone there was more to this than I'd said, and he fixed me with a penetrating stare. "And?"

My eyes flickered to the ground. Was the Quileute secret supposed to be a secret from the Cullens as well as normal humans? I mean, the fact that they had an agreement not to kill each other seemed to point in the direction that the Cullens had to already know about it, but Archie acted like he had no idea.

However, seeing as how I had already told Jules about the Cullens' gifts, honesty with both sides seemed like the best policy at this point.

"And," I admitted, "Jules actually may or may not be a werewolf."

Archie's eyebrows shot up.

I went on quickly, "The Quileutes turn into wolves when there are vampires around. They knew Carine a long time ago, and made some kind of treaty."

Archie paused, then nodded slowly. "Must have been before I joined up. Well, at least that explains the smell. Not sure if it explains the gap in my vision, but if we are dealing with creatures of _our_ world, then maybe..."

He trailed off thoughtfully. However, his eyes returned to me, and again he was frowning. "So, you were going cliff diving with this werewolf girl?"

I shrugged. "Yeah."

He eyed me beadily. "Been out doing anything else? With werewolf girl, I mean."

I wasn't sure where this was leading. "Sure, we hang out all the time." I added, "To be honest, I've been spending most of my free time down at La Push lately."

Archie put a hand to his head and let out an exasperated groan. "So let me get this straight. All this time we've been gone, you've been running around out here—palling around with werewolves."

I felt like this was an unfair characterization of my social life. "She wasn't when I first met her. She's only been a werewolf for a few weeks."

Archie ran a hand over his short hair and groaned. "Not just a werewolf, but a _young_ werewolf. And a female wolf at that. Double the emotional volatility. Seriously, dude, there is something wrong with you."

He shook his head, muttering to himself, "What on earth made her think you'd be nice and safe if we left? It's like you've got a neon sign on your forehead—Danger from mythical monsters wanted."

I was getting a little peeved. "There's nothing wrong with werewolves," I muttered.

"Yeah," said Archie, rolling his eyes. "Until they get pissed off about something. I mean, most people would have just gone back to normal life when the vampires left town. Be safe as the average person in a small town can be. But no, if you can't put your life on the line hanging out with one kind of monster, you go off to find another."

I shook my head. I could tell there wasn't much point arguing, but I couldn't help but answer, "Look, I probably wouldn't be here without Jules and the rest of her pack. You guys might have left, but that doesn't mean there aren't still vampires around. The wolves were the only thing that stood between me and getting eaten when I ran into Lauren in the woods, and Victor's apparently been on some kind of campaign against me. Lauren told me he has some kind of elaborate revenge plot going on to make up for Joss. It's a good thing the wolves are around, or I wouldn't still be around."

Archie went very still. His usually easygoing expression darkened in a look so savage that it nearly made me fall back a step.

"Did you just say Lauren?" he demanded. "And— _Victor_?"

I nodded, my voice momentarily failing me at the look in his black eyes.

Archie sighed deeply. "Okay. I think we better go sit down, and then I want you to start from the beginning."

We headed into the living room, and we both took up a place on the couch. Archie didn't sprawl himself out like he always had before, and instead sat slightly on the edge, his entire form rigid with tension. He fixed me with such an intense expression I felt a bit nervous.

I tried to tell him everything I could remember that seemed relevant. I left out the part about the voices and the motorcycles, but I explained how Jules and I had become friends, and how shortly thereafter she'd joined the wolf pack. I recounted how I'd gone out hiking and run into Lauren, and how she had told me Victor's diabolical intentions before the wolf pack had arrived to stop her from eating me. I mentioned how recently I'd been coming down to La Push for protection, and the pack had been working on hunting Victor down. I added how I'd seen something red when Jules had pulled me from the water after I'd jumped from the cliff, and how it had only just occurred to me what it had probably been. I finished up with the news about Holly Clearwater.

Archie listened to me with rapt attention, not interrupting once. When I mentioned the red flames on the water, I saw his lips curl back from his teeth in an expression that didn't look the faintest bit like a smile. The look sent a shiver down my spine.

At last he looked away, brow furrowed deeply. "Wow," he said. He let out a kind of hollow, bitter laugh. "Our leaving really didn't do you any favors at all, did it?"

I stared at him blankly. Normally, when Archie stated the obvious, he did it with a grin and twist of humor in his tone, but there wasn't a trace of amusement now.

Finally, I shrugged and looked away. Trying to sound circumspect, I said, "Sometimes you just can't do the best thing for everybody. For one person to do the right thing for themselves, sometimes that means something bad for someone else. That's life."

Archie's expression as he regarded me was hard to interpret. At last he shook his head. "Well...I guess I jumped the gun running down here. Sorry. I should get out of your hair."

He started to stand up, and a bolt of panic shot through me. He couldn't leave now. After all these months I finally got to see him again, he couldn't just go like this. I couldn't take it.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I was on my feet, and my hand was locked in a vice-like grip on his shoulder. My eyes were wide and wild.

"Wait," I blurted.

Archie's gaze flickered to my face, startled.

I struggled to get a hold of myself. Measuring my voice, trying to force it to sound more normal, I went on, "You just got here. At least stay over until tomorrow morning. We have...a lot to catch up on, and..."

I couldn't continue. My throat had closed up.

Archie regarded me carefully for a long minute, looking uneasy, even alarmed. "Okay, man," he said, and he spoke in a low, almost gentle voice "Okay. I'll stay over. I'm not going anywhere."

I tried not to think about how pathetic I had to look right now—my eyes wide and desperate, my entire face contorted with terror and pain.

Archie was looking at me in a strange way, with uncertainty, with discomfort, the way he might look at someone fragile, who needed reassurances and kind words. I worked to pull myself together—Archie was going to stay awhile longer, so there was no use having a breakdown now. Plenty of time to break down later.

I forced a grin, and did my best to sound normal as I said, "Cool. Great. Feels like it's been a while since I've had friends over."

Archie didn't smile back. His black eyes were deeply troubled as he studied me.

"You know something?" he said suddenly.

I blinked. "Yeah?"

"You really look like hell."

I was quiet for a second, not sure how to respond. He was glaring at me, though his expression was more pained than angry. At last, I said, "Uh, I drowned today, remember?"

Archie shook his head, ignoring me. "So bad," he muttered to himself. "You just look _so bad_. So not together. Like a basket case."

It was true, of course, but it still seemed rude to say it.

"Yeah, okay," I said with a touch of annoyance. "I get the picture. I've been giving it my best shot. It hasn't exactly been a cakewalk, you know."

Archie looked away, still glaring. "Yeah, guess not," he muttered. "I just kind of hoped it would be different than this. I kind of hoped it wouldn't turn out exactly like I expected it would."

We were both silent for a minute. I tried to think of something to say to lighten the mood—I didn't like seeing Archie so serious. But before I could think of anything, the phone suddenly rang, making me jump.

I was sure that had to be my dad, and I automatically turned toward the kitche. However, as I thought again, I seized Archie by the wrist and dragged him along with me, in case he was getting any ideas about bolting.

"Charlie?" I answered.

"No, it's me," said a sullen voice.

"Jules!" I gasped. I couldn't say how relieved I was to hear her voice.

"Just making sure you were still alive," she said, sounding as though she resented the fact.

"Yeah," I said quickly. "It was like I thought, it was one of the—"

"Yeah, I got it," she said shortly. "Bye."

The line clicked off, leaving me clutching the phone and the dial tone buzzing in the background. With a sigh, I slowly placed the phone back in the cradle. I had no idea how I was going to fix this. It was all such a mess.

I turned around to find Archie observing me closely.

"So that was the werewolf girl, huh?" he guessed.

I nodded.

"She sounded kind of ticked."

Again, I nodded. "She doesn't like vampires."

"Guess she wouldn't." Archie paused, and he seemed to be thinking very carefully about something.

"What?" I said, eying him suspiciously.

He shook his head. "Just trying to figure out what needs to happen next. I really should go see Carine, so she can decide what to do about all this."

My grip on his wrist tightened convulsively. However, I forced a smile. "Course," I said, voice cracking. "Of course, but—you're going to stay here a while first, right? You can't just drop in and leave just like that. Stay a little while, at least."

Archie gave me that look again. Like he was handling glass and if he wasn't careful, he might break something.

"If you think that's a good idea," he said slowly.

My death grip on his wrist loosened slightly, and I let out a silent beath of relief. "Yeah, you can stay here. I know Charlie will be psyched to see you again."

"I do have my own house already, you know," he pointed out.

"Oh. Okay." My tone dropped with obvious disappointment before I could stop it.

Archie studied me again. "Well, I'll at least need an overnight bag or something. So your old man doesn't get suspicious."

My mouth spread in a huge grin at this, and I threw an arm around his shoulder. "You're the best, man!"

Archie sighed, pinching my wrist with his thumb and forefinger and carefully removing it. "And, I think I'd better go hunting. Like, right now."

I looked back into his solid black eyes.

"Sorry," I said, forcing myself to put some distance between us again.

"Think you could manage not jumping off any cliffs or be attacked by any werewolves in the next hour?"

I pretended to think about it. "I guess I can try."

"I have no idea why, but for some reason, I'm not trusting you." Archie rolled his eyes, then let them slide closed. For a moment his expression smoothed. When his eyes opened again, he said, "Okay, you'll be just fine. For tonight, anyway."

"And...you'll be back?" I said, trying to sound nonchalant and failing.

Archie held up one finger. "One hour. That's it, I swear. If it gets to be one hour and one minute, you can be pretty sure something happened."

I glanced at the clock apprehensively.

Archie suddenly laughed and took a swipe at me. "How did I get along without you? You crack me up." Then he was gone.

I mentally made a list of things to get done while he was gone. Remembering what Archie had said about my smell, I decided to head upstairs and take a quick shower first. I didn't want him pretending to gag every time he came near me. I sniffed my own shoulder as I peeled off my filthy shirt, wondering what it was he didn't like, but I couldn't detect anything but seaweed and brine. Strange.

After I was done, I headed back to the kitchen and popped some leftovers in the microwave, enough for me and for Charlie when he got home. I expected he would be pretty worn from the day's events, and starving. I felt a cloud pass over my jubilant mood as I thought of him, down at the hospital making arrangements with Saul Clearwater. I couldn't imagine how he'd be feeling when he got home.

While I waited for the food to heat, I grabbed a couple of thick blankets from upstairs and set them out on the couch. Archie didn't need to sleep, of course, but Charlie would be expecting to see something.

I shoveled in my food quickly without really tasting it, chugging down glass after glass of water. Apparently all the salt water in my system had left me dehydrated.

I decided to go watch some sports to pass the rest of the time, but as I headed toward the living room, I was startled to see Archie already there, sitting on the couch where the blankets were. He turned around to grin at me, and I saw his eyes were a liquid gold.

"Yo," he said. "Hope you didn't call the police while I was gone."

I glanced at the clock. "Nope. You made the deadline. Ten minutes early, in fact."

I threw myself down on the couch beside him, again grinning so wide I wouldn't be surprised if my face was sore in the morning.

Archie shook his head, grinning a little. "Look at you. You're crazy, you know that?"

I shrugged. "I know. I've accepted it with good grace."

We briefly lapsed into silence then.

"Um," I said at last. "Does Carine know you're here?"

Archie shook his head. "No, she was out on a hunting trip with Earnest when I got the vision. She'll probably find out everything from the others when she gets back, and I'll bet she'll call me first thing."

I nodded slowly. I hesitated, then drew a deep breath. "So...um...Does _she_...?"

I didn't need to finish for Archie to understand what I meant.

He looked at me seriously. "Honestly? She hasn't got a clue. She would probably be seriously ticked if she did."

I considered that. "Meaning she wasn't close by when you got your vision," I guessed. "Hunting?"

Archie shook his head. "She hasn't been staying with us. She only checks in with Carine and Earnest every few months."

"Oh." For a second, I had a treacherous impulse to ask him what she was up to. I remembered what she had said, about there being plenty of distractions for her kind—and I was suddenly dying to know what she was up to right now. However, I knew that knowing would only make the torment worse later, so instead I said, "So, where's Jessamine?"

Archie shrugged. "Back with the others in Denali. We were all kind of separated for a while, doing our own thing, but we're all together again, and we thought we'd pay Tanvir's family a visit. When I got the vision...well, Jess thought it really wasn't our place to do anything, considering how we all swore we wouldn't interfere. But—" He grinned a little ruefully. "Well, I guess Jess tends to be a bit better at keeping promises than I am."

I opened my mouth to ask him to explain that more fully, but then he blinked and asked suddenly, "You really think your dad's going to be okay to find me here? Randomly taking up your couch in the living room?"

Surprised, I paused, then nodded. "I think he'll be glad to see you again."

"Hope you're right," he said, turning his head in the direction of the front drive. "Because we're about to find out."

I heard the cruiser pull into the driveway, and I got up from the couch, going quickly to open the door.

Charlie looked about as bad as I could remember seeing him. He shuffled forward with his shoulders hunched, his eyes on the ground.

I met him partway, and he came automatically to a stop. For a second I just stood there in front of him, not sure what to do. At last I reached forward and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and he did the same in return, gripping me tightly.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I said in a low, hoarse voice.

He didn't answer, only nodded.

We headed back up to the door, and I kept an arm securely wrapped around his shoulders, in case he needed any support.

"Hey, Dad?" I began, my voice still low. I figured it was better to warn him ahead of time. "Um, we had some unexpected company while you were gone."

His expression was still empty and bleak, and before he had a chance to ask me what I meant, Archie was in the doorway.

"Hey, Chief," he said in a subdued voice. "Sorry, guess my timing couldn't have been worse."

"Archie?" he said, squinting. "Archie Cullen?"

"Yeah," he said. "Just happened to be in the neighborhood and I thought I'd stop by."

Charlie hesitated. "Is Carine with you?"

"No, I'm on my own," he said, answering the question Charlie hadn't asked—both Archie and I knew he wasn't really asking about Carine.

"He can stay over, right?" I said. "I sort of already asked him."

"Sure," said Charlie, voice toneless with exhaustion. "We're glad to have you."

"Thanks," said Archie. "Sorry again for coming at such a lousy time."

Charlie shook his head, and he added sincerely, "No, I'm glad to see you here. I'm going to be busy the next while, doing what I can to help the Clearwaters...It'll be good for Beau to have a friend around."

"I left some dinner for you on the table," I told him as we passed over the threshold.

"Thanks, kid," he said. He gently patted my shoulder, then pulled away, heading toward the kitchen.

I followed Archie back to the living room, and we both took up our places on the couch. I was exhausted from the day's events, and my eyelids drooped, but I didn't want to sleep. I didn't know how long Archie was planning to stay, and I hated to waste any of it snoring. I had so many questions I wanted to ask him, about what everyone was up to these days. Carine, Earnest, Eleanor, Royal, Jessamine...and, against my better judgment...

I don't know exactly when I fell asleep, but I was startled when I awoke to realize I had slept without dreaming.

I'd been laid out on the couch, the blankets I'd gotten for Archie draped over me. I was still a bit out of it, so I didn't move right away, and it took me a minute to realize I could hear low voices coming from the kitchen.

"Give it to me straight," Archie was saying, his voice low and serious. "Just how bad was it?"

Charlie sighed deeply. "It was...pretty bad."

I assumed they were talking about the Clearwaters until Archie said, "Tell me everything, starting from when we left."

There was a pause while the cupboard door was closed and a dial on the stove was clicked off. Apparently Charlie had just gotten done fixing breakfast. I wanted to jump up and go stop Charlie from telling Archie anything, but I had a feeling that wouldn't stop him from finding out sometime. And I had to admit, I was just a bit curious—there were some parts I only had the haziest recollections myself. I'd been underwater, my brain numb, my ears plugged up.

"You know, I went through something similar," Charlie began in a low voice. "When his mother left. It was a rough time for me—everything sort of lost its color. So, Beau...I wasn't surprised by how deeply affected he was. His mother was always the kind who thrived on the new, but Beau is more...brittle, I guess you might say. Unbendable. I guess he must get that from me. Back then, it was tough, but I pushed through it and got back on my feet. Beau's reaction, though...I've never seen anything that extreme."

Charlie took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "That first morning, when I went in to check on him. He was just sitting there, staring. I asked him if he was going to go to school, and he didn't answer. He just stayed like that—for days. I wanted to just leave him alone so he could sort things out, but as far as I could tell, he wasn't eating or drinking. I don't know if he even slept. It was like—looking at a corpse."

"What did you do?" Archie asked in a low voice.

"I didn't want to get the doctors involved if we didn't have to," he said. "Sometimes when you're going through something, head doctors can make things worse than they already are. So I called Renée to come down here. I thought maybe if she took him back to Florida, he'd get better—Sometimes a change is what you need to get yourself out of a rut. But when we started putting some of his things together in a suitcase, he suddenly came back to life. He grabbed all the clothes Renée was packing for him, and threw them on the floor. When we tried to talk to him, he said he wasn't leaving, and that was all he would say until Renée left. We decided not to argue, and I thought, since he was finally moving again, maybe he'd start to improve after that. Get up, get on with life. And at first, I really did think things were getting better..."

Charlie trailed off, remembering. Guilt gnawed at me as I realized just how much worry I had caused him and my mom.

"But?" Archie prodded.

"It's hard to describe," said Charlie in a low, rough voice. "He seemed to be acting normal. He went back to school and work, was eating again, and kept up with his homework. He answered if someone asked him a direct question. But there was just something...off. It was like he was just going through the motions. Like he wasn't really all there. It was like...living in the same house as a war veteran, who came back from the thick of the fighting. He never spent time with other people. He would do strange things with no explanation—I found all his CDs smashed in the trash once, and he'd get up and slip out of the room if the television was on. When he smiled, it was mechanical, like a robot. It never reached his eyes. He never went anywhere, never went out with friends. He had nightmares every night, and he'd wake up throwing up, or sometimes he'd scream like he was being tortured."

I listened, absorbing all this. All that effort to keep from worrying him, and I hadn't hidden a single thing from him. I guess he had always been more observant than I'd given him credit for.

Charlie sighed again. "I just...couldn't understand it. It wasn't like a girl had left him, it was like someone had died. Like someone he knew had been killed in action."

Like someone had been killed in action—That was a good way to describe it. I was the one. I'd been killed in action—from the moment I'd lost the future I'd absolutely decided on.

"I'm sorry," said Archie quietly. "Really sorry."

I could almost see Charlie shaking his head. "It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault, really. It's just...he doesn't get over things so easily. He's always been one to stay a bit apart from the crowd, go at his own pace. But when he declares himself, he doesn't change his mind."

"He seems better now, though," said Archie slowly. "I mean better than what you just described."

"Yeah," said Charlie, and he sounded a little more hopeful. "Yeah. Ever since he started hanging out at the Blacks' place, with Julie Black, he's been a lot better. I think he's going to be okay."

He added, "You know, I think Julie's a good match for him. She knows how to have fun, but she knows what it means to have to be responsible, like Beau. Beau spent a lot of years watching out for his mother, keeping things organized, and Julies's had similar responsibilities for the last few years, having to care for her mother's physical needs since she lost her father. She's not too bad in the looks department either." Charlie's tone was warm.

"Glad to hear it," said Archie.

"Well," Charlie amended. "I don't know exactly what their relationship is now. They might still just be friends at the moment. Like I said, he doesn't change easily. He's like a tank—he just keeps going at his own pace in one direction, and won't turn even if it means he plows right over a landmine. But...I think they would make a good match. Maybe, with some more time..."

"More time," Archie echoed in a murmur.

Charlie hesitated. Then he said slowly, "Hey, kid, you know we're glad to see you, I can tell Beau definitely is...but I am a little worried. This might set him back."

"I know," said Archie, sighing heavily. "I had no idea it would be like this. I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Charlie answered with a grunt. "You didn't know." He added, "And who knows? Maybe it'll turn out for the best."

There was a break in the conversation while forks scraped against the plates and Charlie chewed. I figure Archie had secretly chucked his somewhere.

At last there was a pause in the sound of utensils, and Charlie said in a low voice, so low I almost didn't catch it, "There's something I have to know."

"Shoot," said Archie.

Another pause. Then Charlie said, in a voice just a touch colder than anything he had said so far, " _She_ isn't going to be coming for a visit, too, is she?"

There was a moment of silence, and even laying on the couch in the living room, I could feel the sudden tension.

In all these past few months, I couldn't remember Charlie ever saying anything bad or critical about Edythe. I'd always thought maybe he felt like saying anything negative about how Edythe had left would also be saying something against my mom, and he had never once criticized my mom in front of me, not in all the years I had known him. So the warning in his voice startled me.

Archie finally responded. "No. She doesn't even know I'm here."

I heard the sound of a chair scraping back against the floor, and water rushing from the faucet, splashing against a dish.

I decided now was a good time to wake up. I turned on the couch, making the springs squeak, then stretched and yawned loudly. The kitchen was silent.

Charlie left soon after, as he was working with Saul Clearwater to make the funeral arrangements for the next day. I spent the day with Archie. I told him we could go do something in town, but he seemed content to just sit on the couch and talk.

I asked him about what the others had been up to, and he helped me get caught up. Carine had been working nights in Ithaca and teaching part time at Cornell, while Earnest had been working on restoring a seventeenth century house, a historical monument, nearby. Jessamine had been at Cornell, too, studying philosophy. Royal and Eleanor had gotten back from another honeymoon in Europe, and Archie had spent the last few months researching the lead I'd given him last spring, based on what Joss had said about his life before his change. He'd managed to find the asylum he'd spent the last years of his human life.

"My name was apparently Mark Brandon," he said. "I don't know where Archie came from—I think it must have been a nickname. I had a little brother named Clyde. He had a son—my nephew, I guess—and he's still alive and kicking in Biloxi. I couldn't find too much about my parents, except that their engagement was in the local paper at the time. I'm guessing they sent me to the asylum for having visions of the future, though there's not anything written down about that."

Archie said all this with nonchalance, but I watched him closely. I could only imagine what it must mean, to find out all this about his past. He had been wondering about it for so long. It must be a relief...and painful.

"I found an announcement of when I was born in a local paper, too," he said. "I even saw my own tombstone. It had the same date as my admission papers into the asylum."

He shook his head, smiling. "But, anyway..."

Archie told me how they were all currently spending Cornell's spring break in Denali with Tanvir and his family, all together—except one. He didn't once mention Edythe, and I didn't ask. I wondered if the others even knew what she was up to. Just enjoying her distractions? Or was she actively seeking out new acquaintances, in hopes of meeting a vampire guy who'd be a better match for her? To erase the guilt of what must seem like such a bad experience now...I shook my head and did my best not to think about it.

Charlie finally made it back in the late evening, and he looked even more haggard and worn than he had the previous night. He would be heading back up to the reservation tomorrow morning, so after a bit of dinner, he went straight to bed. Archie and I again took up the living room.

The next morning, I did a slight double-take when I sat up from the couch, and caught a glimpse of Charlie in the hall.

He was dressed in an old suit I'd never seen him wear before, the jacket open and the tie wide. I managed to lay back down before he noticed me, and he crept quietly to the door, trying not to wake us up. We both pretended to be asleep, until he was gone.

Archie sat up from the blankets I'd laid out on the floor. "Now what?" he said.

"You're the psychic, you tell me," I said.

He shook his head. "Right now, all I'm seeing is us sitting here staring at each other until someone makes a decision."

I considered. "Well," I said at last, "I've been down at La Push so much, I've gotten behind on all the housework."

He stared at me, raising an eyebrow. "Housework? Really? That's the best you can do?"

I picked at a bit of thread on the couch armrest. "I was just thinking it might make Charlie feel a bit better to come back to a neat, organized house. You know, after the funeral. I've really been letting things slide." I paused, then added, "But we can do something else if you want."

Archie sighed, but shook his head. "Nah, housework's fine. I guess anything that would help your dad out right now would be nice." He suddenly grinned and added with a wink, "You clean. I'll supervise."

I shook my head, but couldn't help but grin a little myself. "Thanks so much for the help."

I decided to start with the bathroom, hoping to knock the hardest part out first. It was starting to get a bit scary in there.

As I methodically went about each task, washing out the sink and then moving on to the tiled floor, Archie leaned against the open doorframe, shooting me questions about our school friends. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell him much, and Archie's usual grin seemed to get tighter by the minute as he began to get the full picture of zombie-me.

I was in the middle of scrubbing down the bathtub when the doorbell rang.

I turned to Archie. Sometimes it was useful, having someone around who could see the future.

"Who's that?" I asked.

Archie frowned for a moment. "Hmm," he said.

Useful, except when they didn't deign to answer you.

"Coming!" I shouted in the general direction of the door, then got up to quickly wash my hands.

"Hey," said Archie. "I think I'm going to just go and step out for a minute. Get some fresh air."

I stared at him. "Why?"

"Because I have a feeling I know who it is down there."

It took me a second to process that. "You mean you don't know?" I said, my eyebrows coming together. "You can't see?"

Archie's brow was furrowed. "No, I can't see," he said, with a hint of frustration. "Yesterday, when I didn't see you come up—I'm pretty sure now it wasn't a fluke."

I turned in the direction of the front door. "So, what you're saying is...the gaps in your vision...you can't _see_ werewolves?"

"Looks that way," he said, mouth twisting with annoyance.

The doorbell rang again. Twice, quickly and impatiently.

"I'm gonna get going," said Archie. "Catch you in a few."

"You don't have to go," I said.

Archie laughed, but it wasn't quite his usual, carefree laugh. "This girl's a friend of yours, right? Trust me, you don't want to see the two of us in a room together."

He slapped me on the shoulder, then disappeared out into the hall, no doubt to jump out a window.

The doorbell rang again, and with a sigh, I started toward the stairs.

* * *

A/N: Ah, it's good to see Archie again. I still can't believe how close we're getting to the end. (We're leaving off on slightly less of a cliffhanger from last time. C; Though really, it's SM you have to blame for those.)

On an exciting note, since the last chapter someone approached me about doing a Spanish translation of this story. I can't even say how flattered I am someone would enjoy this story enough to want to put the time and effort into doing that. If you speak Spanish, or you have any Spanish-speaking friends who are fans of Life and Death, check it out! C: (The author's username is HonduranGleek, and you'll find the translation under the title _Luna Nueva Reinterpretada_.) The opening author's note and the prologue are already up.

Thanks so much for reading, and if you have a moment, let me know what you thought. C: See you next time~

Posted 5/9/16


	19. The Funeral

A/N: Back! (And after less than twenty-one days, too. ;J)

It's hard to believe it's almost summer again. I think the temperature's just about decided I don't need to wear a jacket to work anymore, but it's not quite there yet.

Thank you all so much for reading, and for your comments! See you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 18: The Funeral

I opened the door to find Jules standing there.

She had pulled back six feet from the door, and her nose was wrinkled as though she smelled something foul. Though her face was a mask of careful control, her clenched fists shook slightly at her sides, and silent hostility rolled off of her in waves.

For just a second I flashed back to that afternoon what felt like an age ago, when she had turned her back on me, chosen Sam over me. I froze as the pain struck me hard in the stomach—but just as quickly, I felt my face harden automatically to hide it.

Jules's Rabbit idled by the curb. Jay was in the driver's seat, hands on the wheel, and Emma was on the passenger's side. They were both watching me, and neither was smiling. A few days ago, I'd practically been one of the family—always welcome on the reservation, in on all the pack's movements. Now, suddenly, I was the enemy again.

My eyes returned to Jules. The pain was burning in my chest, now trying to reach up my throat, but I gritted my teeth and forced it back down. Getting weepy wasn't going to win any sympathy with this crowd—it was when they sensed weakness that wolves were the most likely to strike.

So I glared, mirroring her hostility right back at her. We were both silent.

"You needed something?" I said at last, a little more roughly than I meant to.

"Maybe," she muttered back in the same tone, mouth twisting. However, she wasn't looking at me, and instead her eyes warily scanned the front of the house.

"He's not here," I told her.

Jules paused. Her gaze flickered back in my direction, but she didn't quite meet my eyes.

"He isn't?" she asked, and this time the antagonism in her voice had dropped a notch. Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly. "I need to talk to you for a minute," she muttered. She added unwillingly, "If that's all right."

I didn't answer for a moment. I eyed her suspiciously, before I said finally, "All right. Come on in, then."

Jules hesitated. Her eyes flickered back to the car, almost questioningly. Emma was staring back with hard eyes, and she shook her head just a fraction.

Whatever annoyance had briefly retreated with Jules's slightly more amicable tone instantly came back in full force.

"Unless, of course," I said, raising my voice sarcastically, " _Sam_ won't like that. Maybe you should go back and get some written permission first."

Jules glared ferociously at the challenge in my voice, and without another word, stalked forward and passed me into the house.

I lingered in the doorway a minute, staring out at Emma and Jay. Their mouths were set in identical thin lines, eyes narrowed.

I stared back at them for a long second, then shut the door on them.

Jules had gone on in, and now stood in the hallway, her back to me, hands still clenched at her sides. Her eyes darted restlessly about the room as though searching out enemies. Her gaze fell briefly on the living room, where the blankets were still sitting, twisted up where I'd slept. Her lip curled.

"Sleepover?" she said with a sneer. "How nice."

I didn't answer. It was steadily becoming clear that Jules wasn't here to make up or clear the air. Then again, I hadn't really expected her to. Not after yesterday.

I felt suddenly exhausted. "What are you doing here, Jules?" I asked, and the words came out almost a sigh. "What do you want?"

Jules didn't reply. She didn't even look at me. Instead, she continued on further into the house, eyes flickering everywhere, her feet perfectly silent on the floorboards. She went on ahead to the kitchen, lifting her eyes up as she stepped over the threshold, as if she expected a snake to drop down on her from the ceiling.

"Hey," I muttered, coming to a stop behind her as she paused beside the counter. "If you don't have a reason for being here, you can always leave, you know."

Jules finally turned to face me. She was glaring, her dark eyes almost black.

"I wouldn't step foot in here if I didn't have to," she said jerkily. "But someone had to ask a couple of questions on behalf of the pack—and bear the message."

I felt like she had slapped me, but I didn't let it show on my face. "Message?" I repeated, as evenly as I could.

Jules's clenched fists quivered at her side. She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. When she opened them again, her face was once again a perfect mask, smooth, devoid of emotion. "One of the Cullens is here with you," she said. Stating, not asking.

I shrugged, looking away. "So what if there is?" I muttered.

"How long?" she asked calmly, ignoring my tone.

I folded my arms, looking away from her, staring hard at the far corner. "Archie can be here as long as he wants to be," I said quietly.

The corner of Jules's mouth tightened, but otherwise she didn't react. "Have you informed him of the situation with Victor yet?" she asked evenly.

I felt suddenly queasy again at the thought of Victor, and fear distracted me briefly from the storm of other emotions swirling in my stomach.

"Yeah...I told him."

Jules turned her gaze back to me. "You should know that, as long as one of them is here, we can't watch you here anymore. You'll only be safe in La Push."

I kept my eyes on the floor. "Yeah," I said in a low voice. "I get it."

"Okay," she said. Jules didn't look at me as she strode past me, in the direction of the door. However, she paused beside the table.

"One more thing," she said abruptly.

I waited for her to continue. When she didn't, I said finally, "Yeah?"

Jules kept her back to me. "Are the rest of them coming back, too?" she asked. Her voice was calm—almost too calm.

I felt like something had lodged itself in my throat, and for a moment, I couldn't respond. "No," I said at last, very quietly. "They aren't."

Jules nodded once. "Okay. That's all then."

The conversation was over. I continued to stare at the floor as Jules's silent feet carried her from the kitchen and to the front door. I waited to hear the front door open, but of course, it was silent. The awkward, loud and and clumsy Jules was long gone. Now, she was all Sam's. Graceful, strong, and full of bitterness.

I stumbled back against the kitchen counter, and all strength seemed to have gone out of my limbs. I couldn't blame Jules for acting like this. I'd turned my back on her first, chosen the bloodsuckers over her. Even though I knew it wasn't really like that when it came down to it, I knew that was how it must feel to her. Would things go back to the way they were before once Archie left? Or had I destroyed everything beyond all hope of repair?

My lungs burned, and though I tried to breathe, I couldn't seem to take in enough air. I bent my head to my hand, covering my eyes, trying to get my hitched breathing under control.

"Beau?"

I jerked, startled, and looked up through blurry vision to see Jules standing in the kitchen doorway. Apparently she hadn't left after all.

The muted hostility in her features was gone, and her eyes were wide and uncertain.

I swiftly spun, turning my back to her, and I wiped roughly at my eyes. "What?" I muttered. My tone was almost sullen.

Jules crossed the kitchen, coming to stand beside me again. She leaned over to peer up into my face, her expression earnest.

I looked away from her again, sniffing and wiping my nose. My eyes were probably embarrassingly red.

"Sorry," she said softly.

I couldn't speak without my voice cracking, so I just shook my head. She wasn't the one who needed to apologize.

Jules leaned back with a sigh, folding her arms. She shook her head. "I already knew what they were to you," she muttered, staring at the floor. "I knew how you'd react if you saw one of them again. I don't know why I was so blindsided like that." Again I saw the loathing in her eyes as she thought of them.

I looked away again. I wanted to tell her the Cullens weren't bad. They were just like the wolves, using their powers to protect people. But I knew there was nothing I could say to her to get her to understand.

At last, I shook my head. "Sorry," I mumbled.

Jules shook her head, and she let her arms drop. "Well," she said, and her voice was surprisingly bracing. "It's only a visit, right? He'll be gone again soon. And then things will go back to normal." She didn't quite smile, but her face was softer than before.

I sighed. My throat had finally loosened, and my eyes were clear again. "Can't I be friends with you and him at the same time?" I asked.

Jules looked up at me, and her expression was hard to read. "It just doesn't work that way, Beau."

I kept my eyes on the sink beside me. At last, I drew in a deep breath and nodded once. "Okay," I said. "But you'll be my friend again when he has to go? Even though you know what they are to me...and that won't change...you'll come back?"

Jules was silent for a long minute. At last she said in a low, slightly husky voice, "Yeah. I'll always come back, Beau. I'm your friend through it all, even if I'm not always here. Even if you are a vampire-lover."

I looked up at her, and I felt a slow smile spread across my mouth. "Okay," I said. That would have to be enough. Even if the rest of the wolves couldn't stand the sight of me and things would never be the same as they had been again, everything would be fine, as long as that was true.

Jules looked back at my expression, then she smiled a little too. She suddenly sighed, and I felt her lean into my shoulder. Her arm went around my back, and my arms automatically wrapped around her in response.

"This is kind of a sucky situation," I muttered.

She gave a humorless laugh. "No kidding." She turned her head into the shoulder of my shirt. However, sniffing once, she suddenly wrinkled her nose.

"Blech. You really need a shower, Beau."

I frowned. "I just took one last night. I can't smell that bad."

She was smiling a little, though her mouth was still tight. "It's because of your bloodsucker buddy. You smell like one of them—kind of sickly sweet, icy. It burns my nose."

"Yeah, well," I muttered. "Archie was going on about how bad I smelled yesterday, too. Like I said, I just took a shower. I'm not going to drive up Charlie's water bill just to satisfy you two."

Jules considered this. "Huh. So maybe they don't like the way we smell either. You must have smelled like me."

I knew she was probably thinking of that moment in my truck, and I looked away, my mouth set in a firm line as I fought the color creeping up my face.

She suddenly grinned. Her arms around my back tightened, pulling us closer together, and she buried her face in my shoulder. "He'll probably want you to take another one now," she said with obvious glee. Irritating vampires apparently was enough to make her day.

I rolled my eyes, but I didn't push her off.

We were both quiet then, and neither of us moved. Eventually Jules's mischievously tight grip on me relaxed, but she didn't let go, and I didn't either. I distantly felt the even pounding of a heart beat, but I couldn't be sure if it was mine or hers.

Everything was such a mess. It was so good to have Archie back, more great than I could describe—but when Jules walked out that door, our friendship would be on hold until Archie was gone. I didn't know when I would see her again, and it was almost too much to take.

"I'll miss you," Jules said softly. "Every second. I hope the parasite gets lost soon."

I shook my head. "It doesn't have to be that way, Jules," I said in a low voice. "It could be different."

Jules sighed. "You don't understand, Beau. It's better for me to stay away. They're beasts—but I know to you, they're family. And beasts or not, I'd hate to kill any family of yours."

I didn't answer. My throat had constricted again.

Jules slowly drew back, releasing me.

I still wasn't ready for her to go. She had only pulled away a little when, without meaning to, my arm tensed, locking up around her. She gazed up into my face, and I looked down into hers.

I focused on relaxing my arm, making my gripping fingers at her waist go limp. However, Jules had stopped moving, and she didn't try to pull back again. Instead, she gazed up into my eyes. I stared back down into hers, and I saw my own reluctance at separation mirrored back at me. When she raised her hand to grip my shoulder, it felt as though she didn't want to let go anymore than I did.

As I watched, something in her eyes changed. The fear, the desperation softened, replaced by a new kind of intensity. The hand on my shoulder slowly slid up, first pressing against the side of my neck, then cradling my jaw. Her hot, feverish skin burned against mine. Her face moved a fraction closer to mine.

I was frozen.

I knew what was about to happen if I didn't stop it—but I still hadn't made my decision yet. Jules was my best friend, and she had pulled me from the shipwreck that was my life, from my perpetual state of drowning. Just being around her was like finding a patch of sun in a dark forest. She understood me, accepted me even when I was at my most disfigured, and even if she lost her wolf's temper and lashed out at me, she always came back.

We were just friends—but it could be more than that. It was up to me. Could it work? Would it feel right? Maybe it would—maybe it wouldn't feel like a betrayal. After all, the only person I would be betraying was myself.

Jules stared up at me, our eyes locked together. She moved with deliberate slowness, until I felt her hot breath on my face. Her dark eyes gazed deep into mine, as though trying to read my mind.

But I was sure she couldn't tell what I was thinking—whether I would turn away, or wait, and let her close the short inches between us. Because I still didn't know myself. I didn't want to make this decision right now—not yet. But it felt like I had to. The time had come. Should I? Would it be wrong? Would it be wrong not to?

"Beau," Jules said softly, passionately, and as I felt her breath on my face again, I knew my time was up.

I opened my mouth to answer—still having absolutely no idea what I was going to say.

The shrill ring of the phone on the counter just beside us cut through the quiet, and we both jumped. I was too numb to react, and so at last Jules reached over and picked up the receiver, putting it to her ear. However, her gaze never moved from mine, her concentration unbroken.

"Swan residence," she said in a low, intense voice.

Someone answered, and Jules's expression altered in an instant. Her eyes were suddenly flat and cold, and she pulled away from me, her shoulders rigid, back straight. Sam's military posture of discipline and forced restraint.

I had a sneaking suspicion it was Archie on the other end, and I reached over, trying to signal Jules to hand it over to me, but she twisted so it was out of my reach.

"He's not here," she said abruptly, with acid.

The caller said something in reply—a question—and Jules responded grudgingly, "He's at the funeral."

Jules slammed down the receiver and glared at it as if it had personally attacked her.

"Beast," she muttered. "Filthy, blood-sucking—"

"Hey," I said, cutting into the epithet. The spell from a moment before was gone, and I could feel my irritation rising. "What was that? You answer my phone in my house, then you hang up?"

Jules rolled her eyes. "Give it a rest. _She_ hung up on _me_."

It took me a second to register the pronoun. She.

It felt like the air had been knocked from my lungs. Though a sudden, boiling fury coursed through my veins, my voice was low and hoarse as I whispered, "Who—Who was that?"

Jules's mouth twisted, her expression halfway between disgust and amusement. " _Dr._ Carine Cullen, apparently," she said with a drawl.

I couldn't believe it. Another ghost from my past I hadn't expected to ever hear from again.

My voice was low and dangerous as I said, "Why didn't you let me talk to her?"

"She didn't ask for you." Jules was completely back to her bitter, sarcastic self. She barely looked at me as she spoke. "She asked for Charlie. I told her where he was. I don't see the problem—If she wanted to talk to you, she would have asked for you."

My eyes dropped to the floor. She was probably right, but I said quietly, "You should have at least told her I was here."

Jules made a sharp, impatient gesture. "Like I said, if she had wanted to talk to you—"

She suddenly broke off. Her eyes were wide with shock, and her gaze flickered back over her shoulder.

Jules's gaze went briefly back to me. "See you," she breathed in a rush, then spun and bolted from the room.

"Hey—" I began, starting after her, but I'd no sooner passed through the kitchen door than I ran into her, standing stock-still in the hall.

"What the," I muttered as I staggered back, rubbing my chin. "What are you—"

Jules whirled, and she met my gaze for a fraction of a second. Her eyes were wide and wild like a trapped animal. Then she barreled past me as though I wasn't there, in the direction of the back door. However, she had only gone a couple of steps when she froze.

Archie was standing there, at the foot of the stairs. His features were drawn, the skin of his face as white as I had ever seen it. His golden eyes were glazed, far away.

The expression sent a barb of panic through my chest, but I mastered it, and I pushed around Jules to his side. "Archie?" I said uncertainly. "What is it? What's going on?"

His vacant, distant eyes suddenly sharpened into focus and his gaze came to rest on me. His face was stricken, the whites of his eyes visible around his irises as he stared at me with horror.

He only said one word. "Edythe," he whispered.

I didn't comprehend immediately. But even so, I suddenly felt as though the floor was tilting beneath me. As though there was no safe place in the world left to stand.

I didn't realize I'd staggered back against the wall until I felt a strong hand grab me by the arm to steady me.

"Beau," said an urgent voice in my ear. "Beau, what's wrong?" I heard an angry hiss, deep with loathing. "What did you do to him, you little freak?"

If Archie replied, I didn't hear it. I felt Jules's arm under mine as she helped lower me down to sit at the foot of the stairs. I clenched my hands around the material of my pants, struggling to get control as a voiceless panic surged through my mind.

I forced myself to raise my eyes to Archie. "What..." I began hoarsely. "What's going on? What did you see?"

I'd never seen Archie really freak out before. Even when things were serious, the most he ever got was a grim look on his face. Because even if a lot of the possible futures he saw looked bleak, at least he had an idea of what to expect.

However, at the moment his eyes were wide with shock. "I don't know, man," he said, speaking so fast the words were barely comprehensible. He gripped the sides of his head, and he said through gritted teeth, "All of sudden, out of nowhere, she just—I don't get it! How could she possibly—?"

Archie broke off, then straightened, reaching into his pocket for a cell phone. His fingers punched in the number so fast I barely saw it, then he pressed the object to his ear.

"Roy, get me Carine now, and I mean freaking _now._ " A pause. "Fine, the second she gets back then. No, I'm getting on a plane just as soon as I can—have you heard from Edy at all?"

Silence. Archie's tense expression went from shock, to disbelief, to pure rage. "You—You what?" he choked. His normally carefree features hardened, and he clenched the phone in his hand so hard I thought I heard the casing crack. "Yeah?" he said roughly. "But it turns out you're wrong. He's totally fine, he's right here—my vision was wrong. That's a story in and of itself...Oh yeah? Well, you were wrong about that, too...Yeah, that is what I saw."

Archie looked angrier than I had ever seen him, his lips drawn back from his teeth. He really looked like a vampire.

"Yeah, go ahead, apologize all you want, I really don't care. As far as I'm concerned, you can go to hell."

Archie snapped the phone shut and shoved it back into his pocket.

I stared up at him. My thoughts were muddled. I couldn't seem to make sense of anything. However, one thing seemed to make it through the fog, seeping down to my brain.

"Carine should already be back," I said slowly. "I mean, she called us just a second ago. Jules spoke to her."

Archie stared at me, and there was a look of such defeat on his face for a second I couldn't breathe.

"How long ago?" he asked dully.

I shook my head. "Maybe thirty seconds before you showed up."

"What did she say?" He spoke in the same dead voice. He was looking at Jules now.

Jules had been sitting beside me, but now she stood up from the stairs. Her narrowed eyes flickered back and forth between us.

"What?" she said resentfully.

"What did she say?" Archie asked again, more insistent this time.

"Jules," I said, almost pleadingly.

She looked away, mouth twisting. "Nothing. She just said, 'This is Dr. Carine Cullen, may I speak to Charlie Swan?' I told her he wasn't here."

"What else?" Archie pressed.

Jules bared her teeth at him. "That's all, shorty. Then she hung up on me."

"No," I said, remembering. "You told her Charlie was at the funeral."

"Same difference," she muttered, arms folded, glaring at Archie.

Archie's face slackened, and he groaned. His back bent as though a giant weight had been dropped on his shoulders.

"What is it?" I asked urgently. I lurched to my feet, and before I knew what I was doing, I had reached out to grip Archie by the collar. I shook once, hard. "What's going on, Archie? Tell me."

Archie raised his eyes to mine, and there was a despair in them I had never seen before. "That wasn't Carine on the phone," he said quietly.

"You think I'm lying?" Jules cut in, eyes narrow. "She said—"

Archie continued in a low, lifeless voice, "It was Edy."

I stared back at him for a long minute, my hands still clenching his shirt. My mind shot ahead, finally connecting the dots I hadn't gotten before. I felt my death grip slowly relax.

"She thinks I killed myself," I said calmly. "Royal told her I did."

Archie gritted his teeth, and the ugly, dark look came back into his pure features. "Yeah, that's exactly what that—what he did. The next time I get my hands on him..."

The idea of slightly short, wiry Archie trying to start a fight with Royal—who looked like he'd stepped right off the cover of an issue of _Fitness RX—_ was a little unnerving, and I hoped he was just saying that.

I worked to trace the order of events in my mind. "She called here," I said thoughtfully, "trying to find out if what Royal said was true. So when Jules said, 'He's at the funeral,' of course she thought Jules meant _my_ funeral." I nodded. It was all starting to come together now.

Archie was staring at me, mouth slightly agape, as though he couldn't understand how I could be so relaxed. I was starting to get a little irritated. He'd just about had me in a panic.

"I don't get what you're freaking out about," I said. "It's just a misunderstanding. We can just call her back and get it all straightened out, or maybe she'll even call us back. What's the worst that will happen? She'll sit around feeling horribly guilty for a few minutes. She'll forget about it as soon as we get it all worked out."

I smiled a little, already anticipating hearing the sound of her voice again—her real voice, not delusions. Even if it was short, even if it was just to confirm I was still alive, it would be like the sun had come back—for a few moments at least.

Jules was watching me, her expression impossible to read.

However, Archie's grave, ashen features didn't change, and my smile slowly faded. "What is it?" I said uncertainly.

Archie drew a deep breath, then slowly let it out. "Beau, man, she's not going to call again. She has her answer already."

I shook my head. I didn't get why he was acting like this. "So? So call her back. Or if she won't answer, someone go and find her. You aren't just going to leave her to sit and feel bad."

"She isn't sitting," Archie said, so quietly I barely heard it. "She's already left. She's headed to Italy."

I stared back at him for a minute. Then it struck me like a bolt of lightning.

Her words from so long ago, from another life, drifted back up from the depths of my mind.

" _Obviously I wasn't going to live without you. But I wasn't exactly sure how to get it done...I thought maybe I could go to Italy. Do something to provoke the Volturi...The Volturi rule over our kind. They make the laws to make certain we stay hidden and unknown to the human world at large. If you do anything to break those laws...you are..."_

"Executed," I finished in a whisper. I backed away from Archie slowly. My entire body felt numb. I barely felt it as my heel caught the first stair, and I tripped, collapsing back hard. I realized dimly that I was shaking.

"It can't be," I breathed. I couldn't seem to get enough air as I said, "It doesn't...make sense. Maybe back then, when we were—But now? It doesn't...doesn't make sense."

Archie was eying me. "You know what I'm talking about," he said. "About Italy."

My breathing was coming faster now—almost hyperventilating. The words tumbled out in a rush. "She told me once. About _them—_ but why? It doesn't make sense, not now."

My hands were clenched so hard together my knuckles shone white beneath the skin, and they continued to shake.

"What can we do?" I could barely get the words out.

Archie hesitated. "We're probably already too late. I saw her going to the Volturi...asking to die..." He clenched his fist, then added, "But I can't see the Volturi's decision yet, not until she asks them."

"So they might decide not to kill her?" I whispered.

Archie's mouth was pressed in a grim line. "They might. Sulpicia and the others know Carine, so that could be a factor—Sulpicia has a lot of respect for Carine, and she might be reluctant to do anything to upset her. But that doesn't matter, because if they don't, Edythe plans to force their hand anyway. She's going to break the single most important law of our kind—right there in their own city."

I couldn't speak for a moment. I opened my mouth, and a strange, choking sound came out. My entire body felt too weak to move. I swallowed hard, but my voice still cracked as I said, "So—So—"

Archie looked at me. "So if they grant her request at the outset, we won't make it. If they say no and she comes up with a plan to force them to act quickly enough, then it's over, too." He paused. "But—if she waits...gives in to her more theatrical side..." There was a spark in his gold eyes. "We might have a chance."

I sat there for a moment, gazing back at him.

"If she sees me," I said quietly at last. "That's our only chance."

Strength suddenly surged back through my limbs, and abruptly I was on my feet. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

In a moment I was already at the door, seizing my jacket on the way.

Archie didn't move right away, instead watching me go, his expression conflicted. "I don't know, man. I don't know if I can ask you. You'll be surrounded by vampires. And these aren't vampires like us—they hunt and eat humans. Sulpicia, for the most part, has her guard prey on what she considers the bad, destructive elements of human society, but accidents happen. All the time."

I stared back at him. "Are we going now, or am I going without you?"

Archie's gazed back at me for a moment. Then the corner of his mouth turned up in the hint of a smile.

"Right. Then I'll go order us some airplane tickets. You go grab your wallet and leave a note for Charlie."

I froze in mid-step. "Charlie," I muttered to myself, eyes wide. I'd forgotten about my dad. Victor was still out there, looking for me. What if Victor came here while I was gone, and searched the entire house for me because I wasn't there? What if, in a fit of rage, he...

I felt a hand gripping my arm and I turned. Jules had been standing by watching our swift exchange, her entire form shaking slightly from the proximity to Archie. However, for a moment she was perfectly still as she looked up into my eyes.

"I won't let anything happen to Charlie," she said, and even though her voice was sour, her eyes were determined. "I'll break the treaty if I have to."

I nodded once, and though she was scowling at the panic in my eyes, I felt a flood of gratitude. However, there was no time for thank-yous, and I spun for the kitchen. I began ripping out drawers, searching for a pen.

Jules was already there, and she wordlessly held one out for me, and the pad of paper we used for phone messages. I took them, pulling off the cap of the pen with my teeth, and ripping off the top page of the pad in a jerk. I scrawled quickly, leaving ink blotches across the paper.

 _Dad, I've gone with Archie. Edythe's in trouble. Feel free to ground me when I get back. Know this is a crappy time. Really sorry._

Knowing this might very well be the last communication I would have with him, I added, _Love, Beau,_ at the end, then set the pad back next to the phone.

Now that Archie was out of sight, all Jules's trembling hostility was gone. She looked up at me, eyes pleading. "Beau, you can't go there. You'll die."

"Take care of Charlie," I said in one breath, before I dashed back out to the front room.

"Wallet," Archie reminded me again. "Please tell me you have a passport, because there's no time to get one forged."

I nodded as I turned and raced up the stairs. I did have a passport—for a while my mom had entertained the idea of marrying Phil on a beach in Mexico, and I'd gotten us all passports before the plans had inevitably fallen through. I'd never been more grateful to my mom and her harebrained schemes than I was right now. I'd have to write her a card when we got back— _if_ we got back.

I tore through my stuff, first quickly shoving some random things in a duffel bag—I couldn't travel halfway across the world without at least an overnight bag without looking suspicious. Then my hands closed around my old leather wallet. Once I double-checked to make sure the passport was in there, I spun and raced back downstairs. I felt a strange sense of déjà vu—I'd run away from this house in a panicked hurry once before. Only this time I was running to find bloodthirsty vampires instead of escape them.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I found Jules and Archie standing on opposite sides of the open door, glaring at each other and having some kind of heated argument.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Jules demanded. "You might as well take him out in a boat and throw him to the sharks! It's dangerous enough for him just being around you. You might be a beast, but you put in a little effort. These monsters—you can't take him there!"

Archie's lips were curled back over his teeth. "I know what they are—better than you do, _dog_. Beau knows the risks, and you heard his choice. You going to try to stop him?"

Her face was a shade darker than usual with fury, her lips curled back from her teeth. A shudder ran down her spine.

"Cut it out," I snapped as I raced for the open front door, running between them. "You can fight when we get back, let's go!"

Archie moved so fast for the car, he seemed to vanish where he stood. I dashed through the door after him, pausing automatically to turn and lock the door.

I felt a hand seize my arm.

Reluctantly, I raised my eyes to look at Jules.

She had stopped shaking, her features no longer angry. Instead, her face was tense with pain and dread. I saw something glimmer in her eye. "Please, Beau," she whispered. "Don't go."

My throat felt tight. "I have to," I whispered back, my voice low and rough.

"No you don't," she said softly, earnestly. "If you go there, Beau, you'll die. Please—stay. For Charlie. For me."

The engine of Carine's Mercedes purred to life, and Archie revved it impatiently.

I just shook my head, and pulled my arm slowly, gently away.

Jules let me go, though she stared at me with desperate eyes. "Don't go," she choked. "Please, Beau."

I looked back into her haunted, terrified face, and I realized this could be the last time I ever saw her.

Unable to say anything that could possibly convey all I felt in these few moments we had left, I reached forward and wrapped my arms around her in a brief, yet fierce, hug.

"Take care of Charlie," I whispered in her ear.

Unable to look her in the face, I pulled away, turning and dashing for the car.

I threw myself in the open passenger door, slamming it behind me and snapping my seat belt into place. As Archie hit the gas and the car spun in a shriek of tires as he turned us toward the road, in that one instant, my eyes flickered back to the house.

The front door was closed, the driveway empty. I could hear nothing above the roar of the engine, but as my searching eyes scanned over the trees, I caught a glimpse of something just on the edge of the forest. The white remnant of a shoe.

* * *

A/N: Hey! Some chapters come together fairly smoothly, others not so much...This chapter was giving me a lot of grief. (A part of me is always tempted to hold onto a chapter for another week and tinker over it some more, but...I thought, this close to the end, it was important to keep moving. But I admit, most of the chapters from here on will probably be two-week chapters, perhaps more, because they need quite a bit of attention. x3)

Thanks for reading, and if you have a moment, let me know what you thought! :J See you next time!

Posted 5/22/16


	20. Race

A/N: I was working an extra day this week, plus a few overtime hours, so I wasn't sure I would get to this, but as it was a short chapter I decided I would get it done and move along to the next ones, since I think they'll probably take some more time. (Plus apparently I'm working an extra day next week, too...)

Thanks so much for reading, and for all your comments! See you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 19: Race

We made our flight with barely seconds to spare. Then the torture began.

I watched the flight attendants stroll casually up and down the aisle, patting bags to make sure they fit in the overhead compartments, and pilots lean out of the cockpit to chat leisurely with them as they passed, and I wondered they couldn't feel the accusation boring holes in their backs.

"It's faster than running," Archie reminded me in a low mutter. I nodded once, though my hands remained clenched around the knees of my jeans.

Even when the plane finally taxied from the gate onto the runway, and we lifted off into the sky, my anxious impatience didn't abate.

Archie was on the phone before we'd even stopped climbing, and the steward eyed us with disapproval, but I glared at him, daring him to say something, and he passed on without comment. I knew Archie was talking to Jessamine—giving her an update on the situation.

"Yeah," he said, his voice so low I barely heard. "I don't know...the thing is, she just keeps changing her mind. A killing spree through the city, lifting a car over her head in the main square...anything that would violate the laws. She knows Sulpicia would have to respond."

There was a pause, then Archie said in a lower voice still, urgent, "No, love, you can't do that...What? No, you've got to bring them back. You have to know what'll happen if she sees a single one of us. Our only shot is if she sees Beau first. I'm going to do what I can, but our chances aren't too good, so make sure Carine's prepared for the worst."

Another pause, and Archie smiled grimly. "Yeah, I know that...Don't worry, I promise. I'll find a way out, no matter what. Love you."

Archie closed the phone and leaned back in his seat, looking suddenly tired. "Really sucks having to lie to her."

"What's going on?" I said in a low whisper.

Archie sighed. "Royal and Eleanor—and Jess, too—were all set to go after her, see if they could convince her the truth. But that won't work. The moment she sees them coming, which she will, she'll just act that much faster."

"But she can read minds," I objected in a low voice. "She should know the moment she sees them what the truth is."

Archie shook his head. "You can lie with your thoughts. Edythe knows the moment we see her we'd be chanting 'He's alive! He's alive!' whether you were or not."

Archie hesitated, and he looked at me from the corner of his eye. I thought I saw a touch of guilt there.

"What?" I said.

He looked away, staring at the seat in front of us. "I gotta be honest with you," he said in a low voice. "I also just didn't want them—especially not Jess—in the city. If they get there too late, and Edy's already broken the laws—and the Volturi try to take her—they'll fight them. That will make them traitors, and they'll all be executed. I couldn't...I just can't see Jess die that way. You know?"

I stared straight ahead, too. I nodded slowly. I understood. Archie couldn't put Jessamine in that kind of danger, not even to save Edythe. I couldn't blame him for that. Edythe was putting herself in harm's way, and Archie could risk his own life, maybe even mine, but he couldn't risk the most important person to him. I didn't know whether that was right or wrong, but I understood, and I didn't think badly of him for it.

But how could Edythe do this? Why was she running off to kill herself in the first place? It was completely stupid. Maybe she had said something along those lines back what felt like a lifetime ago, when we'd been watching Romeo and Juliet. But later, she'd said it herself—it had just been a silly, overly romantic notion. Her feelings for me had never been actual love, she'd just been doting on a favored pet. Without realizing it, she had been rolling a ball of string in front of me, enjoying watching me play, but it wasn't real. None of it had been.

Carine's words from what seemed like an age ago drifted back to me.

" _I think you know the kind of person my daughter is better than that, Beau. Any action she takes, she takes on the full weight of its responsibility, without excuse..."_

I nodded slowly. That was it. When she thought the mistake she had made had led to my death—I could only imagine the crippling guilt that must have overtaken her. She'd always had a tendency to take too much blame for things on herself.

My eyes stung, and I blinked rapidly. All this time, I'd never once blamed Edythe for what had happened. Jeremy had said that she had been toying with me, but I didn't believe that. I believed that she had believed that she really could love an ordinary human, that she loved me—it had been kind of her to think so. And I was glad that she had thought so, for a while at least, because I wouldn't miss what I had had the privilege to experience in that brief time for anything, not even to save myself the torture of the last few months. She had made an honest mistake and I didn't blame her for it. But I had never imagined that the good I'd seen in her ran this deep—that she was capable of such deep remorse.

I shook my head. "You said the others would fight if the Volturi tried to do anything to Edythe, and would all be executed," I said. "What about you though? Are you in danger?" I couldn't help but remember his earnest promise to get out, and his comment about lying.

Archie smiled grimly. "We're heading into dangerous territory here. Sulpicia makes an effort to be fair and just where she can. But if we're trying to protect Edy and help her even if she's willing to break the laws—well, from all Carine has told us, Sulpicia believes in loyalty to the law and justice over coven bonds. So if we help Edy, that makes us her accomplices, and just as much of a threat."

Again, I nodded slowly. "Who are these Volturi exactly?" I asked. "I mean, I know they're like royalty, and they rule over you and make sure you're following the rules—but where did they come from? What makes them more dangerous than you or Royal and the others?"

Archie sighed and shook his head. "It's a long story. See, first you have to understand, our coven's pretty unusual. You don't see too many big covens like ours, or like Tanvir's in the north. That's because most of our kind aren't exactly civilized. They just sort of drift from one place to the next—I guess you could call them vagabonds—and they go it alone, or at most, in pairs. Joss's coven was unusually large, and Lauren ditched them without a second thought. But there's an exception—and that's the Volturi.

"The core three members are ancient, all over three thousand years old. There were originally six—three pairs of bonded mates, Sulpicia and Aro, Athenodora and her mate Caius, and Marcus and his mate. Here's the history as we've all been told—Thousands of years ago, in the Mycenaean age, everything was being torn apart by turf wars and widespread slaughter of human prey. Vampires didn't bother to hide their existence, and they fed wherever, whenever. The Romanians were the ones on top—they kept all the others from cutting in on their territory through brute force, and they got all the best feeding grounds. Aro was the original founder of the Volturi—he convinced Marcus and Caius to join forces with him, in the hopes they might create a world more peaceful, stable, and they would rule over it. They each took mates for themselves, as they planned how best to overthrow the Romanians, and establish a new rule.

"No one knows all the details, but Aro—maybe getting too ambitious, trying to cut down the number of those he'd like to share power with—murdered Marcus's mate, Aro's own sister. Only Sulpicia saw what he did. He never believed for a moment she would betray him—but Sulpicia turned him over to Marcus, and Caius, too, who turned out to be in on it. Now there are three members of the core family—Sulpicia, Marcus, and Athenodora."

"Only three?" I said in a low voice.

"Only three part of the main family," Archie corrected. "That doesn't include their guard. The guard is huge. Last we heard, always a core of at least eight or nine, almost all with seriously powerful gifts, then more members of a transitory secondary guard, many of who have gifts of their own. And the Volturi are always looking for more potential recruits. They're impossible to fight."

"And they live in Volterra," I said.

Archie nodded. "No hunting in Volterra, obviously. They bring their food in from outside, far away. Mostly they scrape up the dregs of society, people who won't be missed—druggies, pimps, people who don't follow human laws. Sometimes they play vigilantes and catch criminals still at large, too. That's what Sulpicia wants—to clean up anything that threatens world order."

"They don't sound all bad," I said slowly.

Archie smiled grimly. "Maybe they aren't bad—for vampires. But human and vampire standards are two different things. They may say they live by a code, but they all drink human blood, and not just criminals. Their prey could be the homeless guy off the street, or a teenage runaway—like I said, people who won't be noticed. And that's not even considering that sometimes they make mistakes—lose control, like most of our kind."

Archie continued, "And when it comes to humans, innocent or not, keeping the secret comes before all else. I hate to say it, but your dog friend could be right—there's a huge chance you'll end up dead, either by the hand of a guard who loses control, or Sulpicia may order your execution right along with Edy's and mine, just for being a human in the know."

I didn't know how to answer, so I simply stared at the back of the seat in front of me. I kept the window shade down, in case any sunlight outside might inadvertently touch Archie's inhuman skin. I still didn't say anything as Archie settled back into his seat, closing his eyes, and I knew he was concentrating on his visions, waiting to find out what would happen, if Sulpicia would grant Edythe what she asked.

I knew I shouldn't interrupt him, but I suddenly blurted before I could help myself, "Hey. What about the girl?"

Archie's eyes opened, and he looked back at me.

"The girl," I muttered, staring at the folded up food tray on the back of the seat in front of me. "In Carine's painting, there were the three Volturi, and there was a girl there, too. Mele the thief, or something."

"Oh, her," Archie said, leaning his head back against the seat. "She's dead."

I gazed back at him for a moment. I opened my mouth to ask a question, but Archie had already closed his eyes again, back to watching the future. I decided it was better not to bother him, and I settled back into my seat.

It felt like an eternity before our plane finally began to descend to New York City. I had to shake Archie to let him know we were landing, and we had to run flat out across the airport to make our next flight. But I was relieved we wouldn't have to wait around, stuck at an airport, and once the plane was in the air, Archie settled back into his trance.

There were hours to kill before we would get there, so I spent the time thinking. I needed a plan for what to tell Charlie in case we actually made it back. I dwelt on that for quite a while, but before I could come up with anything, my thoughts wandered back to Jules.

The expressions I'd seen pass across her face in those last tense few minutes kept playing through my mind—supreme loathing for Archie and any other vampire, anger, and at the very last, terror and despair as she pleaded for me not to go.

Say we did somehow manage to pull off the impossible, save Edythe and make it back alive. Would Jules feel that I had at last gone a step too far? That I'd chosen my vampire family over her, and it was the last betrayal she could take? I might return to Forks successful, but completely and utterly alone. I wondered just how long I would last without Jules there to keep my head above water.

At some point, I finally drifted off to sleep, and the next thing I knew, Archie was shaking my arm. I startled awake in my seat, spinning to face him, but I saw to my relief in the dim light of a reading lamp a row behind us that he was smiling.

"What?" I whispered. "What happened?"

He kept his voice barely audible as he answered, "Edythe just spoke to the Volturi. Sulpicia has decided to deny her request. She's going to try to reason with her. She hates to see life wasted—especially for someone like Edythe, who has such a powerful gift, and even more, a strong sense of justice. She's going to offer her a place among the guard, as an alternative to dying."

"And Edythe?" I replied in a quiet whisper. "How will she respond?"

Archie shook his head. "I can't see that just yet, but she won't be swayed by anything that Sulpicia says, that's pretty certain. But this at least will give us more time. Sulpicia is reluctant to do anything, and that might force Edythe to get a little more creative."

I didn't answer. I still wasn't ready to start getting my hopes up. Instead I said quietly, "Just how are you seeing all this so clearly? Then other times you see more than one possibility, and you can't tell which one is the one that will actually happen yet—and some things don't happen."

Archie sighed a little. "It's complicated." His voice was so low I could barely hear it. "It's very close to actually happening. Sulpicia and Edy have already made their decisions, so things are pretty much set, up until the point Edy's plans get more defined. It also helps I'm really concentrating—when things just come to me from faraway, when I'm not expecting it, usually those are just glimpses, possible maybes. Not to mention visions of our kind come more easily than visions of yours, and since Edythe is my sister and I'm used to seeing her future, hers is almost always more clear."

I picked at the armrest of my seat as something I had been thinking about for a while came back to me. "You see me sometimes," I said slowly. "My future. Certain possibilities."

My voice was weighted with meaning, and Archie, perhaps already seeing what I was about to ask, seemed to know what I was getting at.

"Yeah," he said in a low voice. "Like I told you before, I did see that—you, becoming one of us. At the time."

"At the time," I repeated slowly, with a tinge of resigned defeat.

Archie stared back at me for a long moment, expression wary. He seemed to consider something. Then at last he sighed deeply and ran a hand over the stubble of his hair.

"You know, Beau-man—considering the completely stupid situation we're in right now, I've just about made up my mind that if we actually survive this, I'll just do it. I'll change you."

I stared at him, not sure if I'd heard that right.

"What's with the look?" Archie said, frowning. "Because I sort of got the impression all this time that's what you were aiming for."

"Yeah," I managed to choke out in a hoarse voice. "Yeah—let's do it. Do it now. I'd be so much faster, and maybe we'd make it in time."

Archie rolled his eyes. "Idiot. We're getting into Volterra tomorrow, and in case you've forgotten, you'd be screaming in pain for days."

"Oh...right." I had forgotten. For a moment, my thoughts flashed back to my hazy memories when we were on the run from Joss, when Archie had told me about the transformation. Vampire venom incapacitated prey with indescribable agony, but if left to spread, over the course of a few days it would go through the entire body, until the heart finally stopped, and the conversion was complete.

I felt my shoulders sink, and couldn't help but add in a mutter, "If you don't do it now, you'll change your mind."

Archie eyed me again, frowning slightly. "I wouldn't have even said it if I wasn't pretty well decided. Edythe will probably want to kill me, but considering if we save her life I'll probably want to kill her, I figure we're even. Let her try to stop us."

I didn't want to get my hopes up, but I felt my spirits lift at the thought. Maybe Edythe wouldn't find me at all interesting as a vampire, but at least we would be equals at last, a part of the same world. Even if she wasn't interested, I would be able to follow her, have the power to at least try to win her over. Maybe I could even be a part of the Cullen family.

Archie was eying my contented smile, still frowning. "You know I'm not totally sure that I could, right? There's a pretty fair chance I'll end up killing you instead. Like I said before, we're like sharks, and the taste of blood sends us into a frenzy."

I shrugged. "I figure it's worth the risk."

Archie's eyes narrowed. He tapped his fingers on the armrest with mingled irritation and impatience. "You know, sometimes you're way too laid back about your life. If you weren't so quick to go around jumping off cliffs, we might not be in this mess."

It was a fair point, and I decided not to argue.

Archie sighed. "You should try to get some sleep. I'll wake you up when something else happens."

"I'll try," I said doubtfully.

The corner of Archie's mouth flickered in a smile, then he closed his eyes and let himself fall back into his trance.

I leaned my head back against my seat, and closed my eyes.

The next thing I knew, Archie was reaching over to snap the window shade closed against the brightening in the eastern sky. I sat up straight, blinking the sleep from my eyes.

"What?" I mumbled. "What's going on?"

"They did it," Archie said quietly. "Sulpicia told her no."

I was completely awake now, and I felt a flood of relief, followed by a new surge of panic as I looked at Archie's bleak expression.

"What has she decided to do?" I asked, as evenly as I could.

Archie shook his head. "It was pretty chaotic for a while. I was only getting flickers, she was switching plans so fast." He hesitated. "This last hour was really bad...she'd almost settled on going hunting."

My brow furrowed. "Hunting?"

He looked at me, his face grim. "She was going to hunt, right in the middle of the city. Tourists—at least until the Volturi got her."

"Oh," I said. I felt sweat break out on my palms, and I had to work to shut out the images that suddenly flooded my mind. "But she changed her mind?"

Archie nodded. "At the last minute."

I felt myself relax slightly. It made sense. Edythe wouldn't want to disappoint Carine—not at the end.

I said, "What's her plan now? Will we make it?" I felt a shift in the cabin pressure, as the plane angled downward.

Archie was staring straight ahead, his face solemn. "We might. If she sticks to her last plan—she's going to keep it simple. Just walk out into the sunlight."

I nodded slowly. Sunlight. I closed my eyes, recalling the way the light broke out in prisms across her skin, shimmering like diamonds. That would definitely be enough to incite the Volturi to act.

I opened my eyes, seeing the pale gray light beginning to show through the open windows along the cabin. "So we'll be too late," I whispered. My voice was calm, but I could feel myself shaking.

Archie shook his head. "Right now, she's leaning toward the melodramatic. She's going to go to the main plaza, and wait until it's filled with tourists and the sun is exactly overhead. She'll come out right under the clock tower."

"So, until noon," I said. "If she doesn't change her mind."

"If she doesn't change her mind," Archie agreed quietly.

We were quiet then as it came over the intercom that we would be landing soon, and the seat belt lights flashed.

I stared straight ahead, my hands clenched around the material of the of my jeans. Make it, or not. One or the other. It came down to this—Edythe had to be saved. I couldn't contemplate the alternative and stay sane.

"How far is it from Florence to Volterra?" I muttered.

Archie glanced at me, and though his features were still drawn, the corner of his mouth twitched in an almost-smile. "That depends on how fast you drive."

* * *

We roared like a couple of maniacs down the road, first weaving in and out of Florence city traffic, then screaming through the broad Tuscan landscape. If this had been the Indy 500, I was sure the other cars would have been out of sight by now.

"Nice ride," Archie exulted. "Fast."

We were in a yellow Porsche, the windows tinted and an interior of black leather. Needless to say, Archie had not picked the car up from among the airport rentals, and I kept expecting to see a roadblock and a mess of police cars with flashing lights up ahead.

"Relax," said Archie, apparently already seeing the comment I was about to make. "If the police set up a roadblock, it'll be _behind_ us. Far behind us."

We drove a while in silence before I said, "Have you seen anything else?"

Archie frowned, staring straight out the window. "There's some kind of festival going on. It's not a normal day. The street's full of people and red flags. What's today?"

I paused, and I had to think about it. "I think the nineteenth. Maybe."

Archie chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "Well, that's ironic. It's Saint Marcus Day."

I looked back at him. "What's that?"

Archie shook his head. "The city holds a celebration every year. As the legend goes a Christian missionary, Father Marcus, drove all the vampires from Volterra fifteen hundred years ago, but was martyred in Romania, still fighting the vampire scourge. Course, that Marcus wasn't actually a saint, but one of the Volturi. He's the one who started a lot of those old superstitions about crosses and garlic—just to give the people some peace of mind, make them feel like they had a way to defend themselves. People didn't have any reason not to believe they worked, as of course vampires don't trouble Volterra. These days Saint Marcus Day is more a celebration of the city's police force, since Volterra is such an amazingly safe city."

I stared out the window. It was beginning to sink in—of all the days Edythe could have picked, this had to be the worst. The Volturi would not be happy to have a vampire flouting what she was in the middle of such a celebration. They would act immediately—maybe even before then.

My hands were clenched into fists, and I could feel myself shaking.

I lifted my eyes to the sky. The sun was higher now—too high. I felt sweat on my hands again, even in the air-conditioned car.

"Is she still planning to wait for noon?" I said quietly, desperately.

"Yeah, she's going to wait it out. And the Volturi are waiting to see what she'll decide."

I stared straight out the window, watching as the road flew at us with unbelievable speed, trying not to think about how fast we were going. "So what's our plan?" I asked. "What do I need to do?"

Archie shook his head. "Nothing. She just has to see you before she steps into the light. And she has to see you before she sees me. I'm going to drop you off as close as we can get, then you go where I point you."

I nodded, not speaking.

He paused. "One thing, man," he added. "Promise me."

I saw something appear in our line of sight—a castle city right on top of the closest hill. Protected by ancient sienna walls and tall towers, it was a beautiful city, and it was easy to see why tourists would flock to it. However, my throat had gone dry, and I couldn't seem to swallow. Volterra—the city of vampires.

"Yeah?" I said, distracted.

Archie looked at me. "Whatever you do, try not to trip."

* * *

A/N: And next chapter is...you know the one. I'm not sure if I'm surprised to have gotten here this fast, or that it's taken this long. xD

Regarding the Volturi situation and the gender-swap. As we know from the original, the story of the core members doesn't exactly follow the same rules, so expect an explanation of how that will work in this Reimagined version at the beginning of next chapter.

Thanks so much for reading! If you have a chance, let me know what you thought, and see you next time!

Posted 6/3/16


	21. Volterra

A/N: I worked overtime the last couple of weeks, so my time was a little limited...Now the problem this week is more settling back into my usual schedule. XD (And also, not getting too sucked into Avatar: the last airbender, now that I've finally watched it for the first time. I didn't know until now I was so easy to enthrall. xD)

And so, we're finally to the chapters with the Volturi. A couple of notes on that:

As we know, the three main members of the Volturi were outside the gender-swap in the original. I think I might have told some of you that I'd decided to make the entire current Volturi guard likewise immune to the genderswap, and that was how I originally wrote it, but at the last minute I changed my mind. I think it's just simpler and makes more sense that way. (However, this decision will really only affect a few characters—you might notice many of the guards are not the same as in the original. This will be explained a little later on.)

However, I am also thinking possibly the more ancient vampire histories will also be left as-is, (Vladimir, Stephen, Amun, and so on) but at the moment I'm still undecided, and it's not clear at this point if they'll even make an appearance.

Hope that wasn't too convoluted. Thanks for reading, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 20: Volterra

The road up to the city was steep, and as we neared the outer edge, the traffic thickened, until there was no more room for Archie to dodge in and out of lanes. The Porsche slowed until it felt like we were crawling, trapped behind a little tan Peugeot. It was probably a good thing Archie was at the wheel, as at this point I probably would have started laying on the horn. Inciting a road rage incident was not going to get us there any faster—or so I had to keep reminding myself.

At some point I began to notice cars parked off along the side of the road, and people getting out to walk the rest of the way. At first I thought people were just as irritated and done with the waiting as I was, but when we turned around a switchback, I saw the parking lot outside the city walls was completely full, and people were walking through the city wall.

It seemed no cars were being allowed inside the city. Apparently the festival did more than just make the traffic heavier than usual and provide Edythe with the ideal stage to defy the Volturi's rules in the most conspicuous way possible, it meant a partial shutdown of the city.

"Archie," I said in a low, urgent voice.

"I know." Archie's mouth was tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel. "I'm going to talk to the guard. I can't see what he'll decide yet, though. If this doesn't work, you'll have to run in alone. Just keep asking for the _Palazzo dei Priori—_ or clock tower, if they speak English. Keep running."

"Palazzo dei Priori, Palazzo dei Priori," I chanted, trying to get it down, though I wondered if anyone would be able to understand me though my heavy accent.

"Edythe will be under the clock tower, north of the square. There's a little alleyway just on the right—she'll be in the shadow there. Do whatever you can to get her attention before she steps out into the sun."

I was nodding vigorously, staring straight ahead at the gate up ahead.

We were near the front of the line now. A man in a navy blue uniform was directing the flow of traffic, turning cars away from the full lot. Each car ahead of us U-turned and headed back to find a place beside the road. At last, we were up.

The man in the uniform motioned lazily, not really paying attention.

Instead of turning the car around to follow the others, Archie touched the gas, speeding up just a little and going around the guard, in the direction of the gate. The guard shouted something at us, but didn't move from his position, waving at the next car to prevent the driver from following our bad example.

There was another man at the gate, also in a crisp navy blue uniform. We headed in his direction, and the throngs of tourists eyed us as we passed, some gawking curiously, others frowning in annoyance.

Swiftly the guard took up a position in the middle of the street to block us.

Archie angled the car carefully before coming to a complete stop, making sure the sun was all on my side, and he was in shadow.

The guard looked ticked as he came around the car and rapped on the window.

Archie rolled the window down halfway.

The guard's expression changed slightly when he got a look at the person inside. The guard had looked ready to tell off what probably seemed a couple of rowdy, self-absorbed teenagers, but he hesitated now, uncertain. With Archie's dark designer sunglasses, black leather gloves and jacket, and magazine cover-good looks, he probably looked like a movie star straight out of Hollywood, or someone else of obvious status. The guard was probably doing some fast thinking—if he ticked off the wrong person, he might just be out of a job.

"I am sorry," he said in heavily accented English, in an ingratiating tone. "But only tour buses are allowed in the city today, sir."

Archie flashed a winning smile. "Didn't they tell you? We're taking a private tour." Before the guard could speak again, Archie casually raised a gloved hand out the window and slipped something into the guard's hand.

The guard drew back his hand to study the object, and his eyes grew as big as saucers. It was a roll of cash. The outside wrapping was, no joke, an a thousand dollar bill.

If this had been an ordinary day, I probably would have rolled my eyes and asked Archie if he thought he might be overdoing it just a bit. However, I sat silently in my seat, perfectly still, praying it would work.

The guard stared down at the roll, as though not sure whether he was really awake.

The clock on the dash shifted, another minute closer to twelve. If Edythe went according to her plan, we only had five minutes left. My hands were clenched into fists, and I felt sweat on my palms.

Archie added cheerfully, "I might be in just a bit of a hurry, dude."

The guard seemed to revive. Whatever internal dilemma he'd been having, about the morality of accepting bribes or abetting conspiracies by parties unknown, he must have gotten past it, because he quickly stuffed the money into his vest. He stepped back from the window, and kindly waved us on without another word.

Archie drove on into the city, and I let out a breath of relief, though I was still rigid as a board. We had to make it in time. If we didn't—

My breathing was coming in shallow gasps now, and I forced myself not to think about it. I just had to concentrate on getting there. There was no room for the panic trying to overtake my mind.

The streets in Volterra were oddly narrow, cobbled with the same clay-brown color stones as the buildings which cast shadows over the street. The buildings seemed to close in around us, and it felt like we were creeping along an alleyway, rather than a street. Red flags decorated every wall and window we passed, and I found myself thinking of the red carpet Archie had set out for my birthday what felt like an age ago. The flags seemed to draw us in like a welcome mat, glittering crimson in the midday sun.

The foot traffic was heavy, but Archie used the Porsche to bully people out of the way. He revved the engine and jolted us forward in spurts and stops, sending people scattering in all directions. Mothers clutched their babies to their breasts, some gave us dirty looks and shouted what sounded like threats in another language. Archie swerved the Porsche down a new path I highly doubted was meant for cars, and people had to dive out of the way and press themselves up against the side of buildings avoid us.

I barely saw them. My hand, still slick with cold sweat, was clutching the door handle, and every muscle in my body was tense as I prepared to hurl myself out the moment Archie gave the word. I was counting the seconds in my head.

Archie turned onto another street. I noticed here the buildings were taller, leaning together overhead so close it cast the entire street in shadow. The billowing red flags extending from poles nearly met.

At last Archie came to a stop, just before a crowd that was far thicker than anywhere else we'd seen so far. I had my seat belt off and the door open before it had even stopped moving.

"Okay, we're here," Archie said in a rush. He jabbed a finger. "You just run that way—toward the north end of the square. Run straight across, and look to right of the clock tower. I'll try to find a way—"

Archie froze suddenly, eyes wide. "They're everywhere," he said in a low, stunned voice. "Absolutely everywhere."

It only took a second for Archie to snap back to the present, and his eyes went back to me. "Never mind, get going! Two minutes, man, that's all we got. Go, go!"

I didn't need to be told twice. Without pausing to watch Archie get out of the car and melt into the shadows, or even close my door behind me, I launched myself through the dark alley and into the square.

For a moment, the sun blinded me, the cold wind stung my face and whipped my hair into my eyes. I didn't see the thick crowd until I'd just about run into them.

I searched for a gap, a path of least resistance. However, I couldn't see one, and I began pushing and shoving my way through the crowd. Grunts of surprise and irritation followed me as I went, but I barely heard them, all my concentration zeroed in on one thing. I couldn't think about the possibility of failure. There was no time for that—and yet I couldn't help but notice as I moved that I was surrounded in a sea of red. The flags, the uniforms, the clothes worn by all those here to celebrate—everything around me was tinted in crimson.

The thick crowd jostled me as I tried to battle my way through, and I was glad for the clock tower, as it helped keep me oriented even as I was pushed and spun in the wrong direction. However, as I raised my eyes to the face of the block, I felt a charge of panic as I realized that both hands were pointing skyward. I began to shove people more desperately, viciously, but I knew it was already too late—I was going to miss it by literally seconds. All because I was a slow, pitiful human.

 _Let Archie make it out at least,_ I thought. Even if Edythe was executed and I was devoured, I hoped Archie would make it back to Jessamine.

Every second I listened, for the gasps, the shouts, the signs of discovery when Edythe revealed herself. But I hadn't heard anything yet, and so I kept running, with a sliver of treacherous hope.

My eyes fell on a pocket of open space in the crowd up ahead. I scrambled toward it, pushing people aside while swearwords in Italian followed me. Only when I reached it and nearly fell forward over a low brick outcrop did I see the break was actually a large square fountain, set right in the center of the plaza.

I didn't think. I leaped over the low obstacle and threw myself into the pool. The icy water nearly came up to my knees, and I made a straight line for the opposite end of the courtyard, throwing up water every which way. As my soaked sneakers hit the cobblestones on the opposite end, I felt my heart lift. I was so close. And with my drenched clothes spraying droplets of water, the crowd was parting before me now. Surely I was going to make it. I couldn't fail now—

The deep, booming chime of the clock split the air, reverberating off the walls and making the cobblestones shiver beneath my feet. Children cried at the noise, and a few tourists plugged their ears.

My stomach turned to ice and, throwing all remaining caution to the winds, I screamed at the top of my lungs, _"Edythe!"_

I shouted her name again and again, still running, even though I knew it was useless, that she could never hear me over the noise of the crowd and the great tolling of the clock. Even knowing that I was too late.

Again the sound of the clock filled my ears, shaking the ground beneath my feet and making every bone rattle in my body, as I tore past a mother and infant, the infant's head of blond hair almost white in the brilliant sunlight, and a circle of tall men in red blazers. Frowning and curious faces followed my progress, but I barely saw them.

The clock struck the hour again, and my eyes scanned the dark narrow passage to the right of the white edifice just beneath the clock tower, where Archie had told me to look. But there were still too many people in the way to get a clear view.

The clock tolled again. Everything seemed to have slowed to a crawl as I pushed myself to the limit. I was so close now—only a single family stood between me and the alley mouth, a father and mother, and a couple of little boys dressed in matching crimson play-uniforms. One of the boys poked his father in the leg, and was pointing at something in the alley just beyond. I could just make it out in between the crook of the father's elbow—something shimmering slightly in the shadows. The youngest boy grimaced as the bell tolled again.

My torso was nearly parallel to the ground now as I pushed for every bit of speed I could muster. I dodged around the mother, who protectively pulled her younger son out of my way, and as I raced toward the shadowy gap beyond them, I shouted, "Don't, Edythe!" But the chime sounded again, drowning out my voice.

She was there. I saw her, standing just on the periphery between the deep shadows and the brilliant sunlight. Even at such a dire moment, with death perhaps seconds away, I couldn't help but marvel. That such beauty, such perfection, could exist in this world.

Edythe's eyes were closed, her head tilted back toward the sky and a slight smile on her lips. In spite of the dark rings beneath her eyes, she looked at peace, serene and perfectly content. Her hands were spread apart, palms up, as though anticipating the feeling of the sunlight on her skin. Her arms were bare, and I recognized the sleeveless white shirt she was wearing, the same one she had worn on that fateful trip to our meadow. Her gray jacket lay on the ground a few feet away. The light reflected from the pavement of the square set her skin to glimmering faintly in the shadows.

As I laid eyes on her, all the uncertainty I had carried for months faded to nothing, and I realized again what I had known from that first day after coming back from Port Angeles. It didn't matter how she felt about me—she was the only one I wanted, and nothing would ever change that.

The clock tolled again, the great and terrible sound shutting out everything else. And Edythe, eyes still closed, took a small step toward the light.

"Don't!" I shouted again. I forced my voice box up as loud as it would go, until I felt like my vocal cords would break in my throat. "I'm right here— _Don't do it, Edythe!_ "

Edythe didn't appear to hear me, and she let out a breathe like a contented sigh. She raised one foot delicately to take that last step into the sun.

I slammed into her with the force of a football tackle. An ordinary person would have been thrown halfway back down the alleyway, knocked senseless, but it was like running into a pillar of stone. My jaw connected hard with her collarbone, and my arms whipped around both sides of her so fast that for a moment I was certain they would both be dislocated.

I started to fall back, but her small hand reached up automatically to my back, holding me in place.

The clock tolled again, and her dark eyes slowly slid open, then flickered down to me.

"Oh," she said, the word coming out as a blissful sigh, and her gaze was the vague, faraway gaze of a sleepwalker. "I don't believe it. Carine was right after all."

I managed to find the strength to straighten, though my jaw and the upper half of my torso where I'd hit ached like mad. I gripped both her shoulders. "Edythe, you've got to get back. Right this second. Move, Edythe—move!"

I pressed hard, trying to push her back a few steps, then when that didn't work, I swerved around behind her, wrapping and arm around her waist and seizing her by the shoulder, pushing with my legs with all my might as I tried to drag her back, but she was as immovable as a granite statue.

Edythe didn't seem to take any notice of what I was doing, and she sighed again. Her slender fingers reached down to the hand I had around her waist, and her fingernails gently traced the bones of each of my knuckles.

"I always wondered what death would be like," she mused. "It was certainly faster and more painless than I expected. I suppose I have Sulpicia to thank for that. She seemed more humane than I expected...in some ways, at least."

She reached up to stroke my face, her hard palm icy against my bruised jaw, but just as gentle as I remembered. She leaned her head back against my chest, and she turned her head slightly in my direction, breathing in.

"Ah," she sighed. "And you still you smell the same as always. Perhaps this is hell after all—My own, specially prepared version. Eternal damnation to the fire and brimstone of your irresistible blood." She turned her head a little further, then inhaled deeply, drawing in my scent again. "Lovely," she murmured. "I accept."

"Yo," I said loudly, letting go of her waist and snapping my fingers in her face. "Earth to Edythe. Wake up, I'm not dead, and neither are you—We've got to get out of here, your friends the Volturi could be here any second."

Edythe opened her eyes, and tilted her head back to peer up at me. "Hmm?" she said, frowning slightly. "What was that?"

"The Volturi," I repeated, desperately. "We're not dead yet, but we might be soon if we don't move it."

Edythe stared up at me, and her eyes suddenly widened.

Her trance-like state was dispelled in an instant, and she spun, one of her bare ivory arms coming around to shove me back, pushing me against the brick wall. Her arm remained raised in front of me, keeping me back, as she turned her back to me, facing into the alleyway. She bent in an automatic defensive crouch in front of me.

I stared over her head, and I watched as two dark figures silently emerged from the deep shadows.

Edythe took a silent breath, then forced herself to straighten, though she carefully kept herself between me and the pair of them.

"Ah," she said, smiling pleasantly, though there was an undercurrent of tension. "Cato, Tacita...How nice it is to run into you again. However, as you can see, it seems there's been a bit of a misunderstanding. I won't be needing your assistance after all. But please pass along my regards and sincerest apologies for the inconvenience to your mistress, won't you?"

Both of the dark figures were dressed in a long dark cloaks, the hoods pulled up so I couldn't see their features.

"I'm afraid you will have to come with us," said a quiet male voice. It was polite, almost gentle, but filled with absolute certainty. There was no room for argument.

"I have broken no laws that I'm aware of, Cato," Edythe said lightly. She seemed to consider, then added, "But if Sulpicia wishes an audience with me, I will be glad to see her." She waved a hand vaguely in my direction, and without looking at me said almost offhandedly, "Beau, why don't you return to the square and enjoy the festivities? I will find you later."

"I don't think so." This was from the second figure, a female voice this time. Tacita, I guessed. Unlike the male, she had a voice that, for all its lilting, velvet beauty, hissed like a snake, forceful and unrelenting. "You know our full orders, mind-reader, and the boy _shall_ come. These games do you no favors, especially when you are well aware that you have indeed violated our laws—the most important law of all."

Edythe stood in front of me, rigid, and I saw in the tension in her shoulders that she was ready for a fight.

"You must see that we are not your enemies," Cato said softly. "Cooperate, and no harm will come to you."

"And what about him?" Edythe said, gesturing to me, voice still polite, but with just a hint of menace. "Does Sulpicia guarantee his safety?"

The female, Tacita, hissed. Her dark red eyes blazed beneath her hood. "We guarantee you nothing," she said in a low, cold voice like silk. "You are a dangerous element, Edythe Cullen. A menace driven by overwrought, misplaced passions. If it were left up to me, I would say that one such as you should not be allowed to live—and your human pet either."

"If you're looking for a fight, Tacita, why don't you just say so?" Edythe suggested pleasantly, though her eyes were hard.

Tacita again hissed, and she bent like a jaguar ready to spring. "Have it your way," she said, and her purr of a voice came out as a snarl.

However, both Edythe and the two Volturi froze, and their eyes turned back, into the darkness of the winding alleyway.

"Fight in the middle of a back alley? Really? Please, ladies, let's show some class."

Archie appeared around a bend of the network of alleyways, coming around behind Tacita and Cato, his hands shoved casually in his pockets. Abruptly, the two Volturi guards were at a disadvantage—even in numbers, but forced to fight on two sides.

This seemed to occur to Tacita, and even though Cato had a significant size advantage on both Edythe and Archie, she slowly straightened, though her expression was sour.

I glanced back at the sunlit courtyard again, and noticed we were drawing some attention from a few onlookers. The family I'd passed earlier was staring at us, as well as a few others. The guards seemed to notice this, too.

"Please," said Cato in a even, but reasonable voice, "there is no need for these theatrics. We simply request that you accompany us, and the boy as well. Lady Sulpicia bears you no ill will. She has no wish for us to fight."

"I will come with you," Edythe said in a low voice. "But _he_ stays here."

"I'm afraid those were not Lady Sulpicia's orders," said Cato politely.

"Then you are asking for a fight," Edythe said softly, back bending, lips pulling back over her teeth.

Tacita didn't look at all disappointed, and though her mouth didn't smile, her eyes gleamed with anticipation. She muttered to her partner, "You take the one back there—I will take the girl."

Cato seemed hesitant. "Lady Sulpicia will not be pleased..."

"This one has given us no choice," said Tacita, staring at Edythe hard. "She will understand."

"Come and get me, Tacita," Edythe taunted softly.

I was very conscious of the fact that Edythe was intentionally inciting a couple of guards for what essentially amounted to the vampire royal family. When it came to human royalty, or presidents, or dictators, or whatever—when they selected their guards, they usually got to pick from the best of the best. These two were probably among the most elite fighters the vampire world had to offer. I felt suddenly queasy—had I just saved Edythe only for us all to get killed in a fight with these Volturi guards?

However, before anyone could move, a low, cold voice cut through the dead, back alley air.

"That's enough."

A third figure in a dark cloak appeared around the bend of the alley, just behind Archie. This one I noticed was significantly smaller, even smaller than Archie.

By now, my eyes were pretty well adjusted to the dark shadows of the alley, and I was able to make out the face of the figure even under the hood. He was surprisingly young, a kid really, small and slight. He had a pretty kind of face, so even though his soft brown hair cut was cut short, he almost could have passed as a girl. His dull crimson eyes were just visible in the gloom.

The moment he appeared, Tacita immediately relaxed her hostile posture, stepping quickly aside and standing erect and stiff, not unlike a soldier at attention for the arrival of a general.

Edythe's posture too slackened, her arms falling to her sides, and I saw her shoulders sag with defeat.

I glanced at her, startled, then looked at Archie across the way, who was frowning slightly. Edythe and Archie hadn't seemed the least intimidated by the two Volturi guards, even Tacita, who moved with a kind of eerie fluidity and obviously wanted us dead, but this kid had made everyone stop cold.

It was Tacita, who looked almost as tense as Edythe and Archie, who spoke first.

"Jonathan," she said stiffly.

The boy didn't even spare Tacita a glance. "Follow me," he said, his young voice devoid of emotion, and he turned around and drifted like a ghost back into the shadows.

Tacita watched as Jonathan turned away, and I noticed her mouth was pressed in a thin line, a reluctant wariness.

Cato gestured politely for us to go first. "After you, please," he said.

Edythe slipped an arm securely around my waist, and drew me forward to join Archie. Together, the three of us followed the kid. As the alleyway grew narrower, the pathway angled down. The two Volturi guards followed behind us, though I couldn't hear the sound of their footsteps on the stone.

"Well," Edythe said casually in a low voice, barely a murmur. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you here, Archie."

"Sorry," he said out of the corner of his mouth. "Guess this one's all kind of on me. I had to do something to try to fix the mess."

"What happened exactly?" Edythe asked softly, as though simply making polite conversation.

"Long story," murmured Archie. "He definitely did jump from the cliff. Apparently it wasn't suicide, though. Beau my man has developed a taste for extreme sports."

Edythe pursed her lips, and I had a feeling Archie was telling her a lot more with his thoughts than he was speaking aloud. I was sure werewolves and psychotic vampires out for revenge figured high on the list.

"I see," she said after a moment, and her tone was no longer light.

The alleyway continued to slant downward, and Jonathan turned right at a fork, which took us around a slight curve. A moment later we hit a dead end, a solid brick wall. I looked around. In the moment the kid had gone from our sight, he seemed to have disappeared.

Archie kept going, and it was then I noticed a black hole, like a drain, in the middle of the ground. The grate had been pushed partially aside. Archie took a quick step forward, and a moment later disappeared through into the depths below.

As soon as I saw it, I swallowed hard and felt sweat break out on my palms.

Edythe reached out and took my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "Don't worry," she murmured. "Archie will break your fall."

"I'm not afraid," I lied, as I stared anxiously down into the black hole before. Then I added, "Archie, man, you there?"

"Sure am," he replied, but to my dismay, his echoing voice came from far too below to be very reassuring. "Any time you feel like."

Swallowing again, I got down beside the hole, swinging my legs over the side. As I took a firm grip on the side and carefully lowered myself down, I immediately felt the change in temperature, as I went from the relatively warm air of the street above to the cold of the underground. I let myself hang there for a minute, gripping the edge until my arms burned. I took a deep breath, then let go.

The fall was short, much shorter than my jump from the cliff. The cold air whipped around me for a second before I hit hard against what felt like a pair of iron rods. Archie tipped me onto my feet and I swayed unsteadily a minute, a little dizzy, and rubbed the back of my legs and my back, the sore points of impact.

Edythe landed lightly beside me, but before I could let myself be relieved at the reunion, we were already moving again, Edythe tugging me swiftly forward. My still wet sneakers squelched on the uneven stones, and I swallowed as I heard the metallic clang of the grate being pushed back into place. We marched on, until the light from the street above was far behind us.

Edythe had one arm secured around my waist, using it to pull me along even when I nearly tripped on the slick stones. The other was on my hand, tracing the bony protrusions of my knuckles, all the way down to my wrist and back up to the tips of my fingers. Every now and again, she she would press her face close to my chest and breathe in deeply.

I wasn't an idiot. I knew what was probably going to happen, why Edythe had been so determined that we not go here. I was a human, walking right into the heart of a lair of vampires. One plus one.

Still, I tried to take what comfort I could in what would probably be our last moments. I was with Edythe again. I loved the affectionate way her fingers traced over mine, and the way she kept inhaling my scent as though to make sure it was real. I knew what she must be feeling—so relieved, that she had not been the cause of my death, that she had not caused me to take my own life after all.

I sighed, wrapping my arm around her slender shoulders. If we somehow survived this, I would have to talk to her about that—talk some sense into that overly noble mind. Something like this could never be allowed to happen again.

If we survived. Which, as I stared straight ahead and we continued to descend into the darkness, two cloaked, crimson-eyed vampires behind us, one in front, I very much doubted.

Slowly, the deep blackness of the tunnel began to lighten, and I was able to see above our heads a low, arched ceiling. My clothes were still wet, and I was shivering at the cold. Edythe noticed, and tried to let go of me, but I kept a firm grip on her shoulder.

We hurried down the tunnel, or it felt like hurrying to me, until we reached a giant, rusting iron grate. In the grate was a small door of weaving, interlacing bars, and it stood open for us. Edythe pulled me through, and we went on to a large, brighter stone room beyond. I heard the grille slam shut behind us with a heavy, reverberating clang, and a lock was snapped into place.

On the opposite end of the room was a thick wooden door, which had also been left open for us invitingly.

Like a trap, I thought, then shivered again as we passed through the door.

* * *

A/N: And, for better or for worse, she's back. (Guess whether this is the chapter you've been waiting for or dreading depends on what team you're on. x3)

Again, the guards might seem strange (clearly Tacita and Cato are not gender-swapped versions of Demetri and Felix), but the reason for that will be explained in the next few chapters.

Thanks so much for reading! :J If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time!

Posted 6/14/16


	22. Verdict

A/N: Hey there. C: Hope those who celebrate it had a good Fourth of July. (My family and I pretty much just relaxed and watched movies most of the day and played games. And that night, we had a free firework show on every side of our house. I admit, I was a bit worried about my dad's garden. xD)

Sorry this one took so long. (It was a combination of factors this time—I've been working yet more overtime, been distracted by other fandoms, not to mention we had family visiting from out of town last week. And, I was procrastinating working on this particular chapter, since I knew it would be a tough one. x3) There are some more things going on that will probably delay the next chapter, too, but I usually get some more momentum as I get close to the end of a segment of a project, so hopefully that will help.

Thanks for reading, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 21: The Verdict

As we passed through the door, I unconsciously felt myself relax a little. We were in a bright, fairly unremarkable hallway, the walls an even off-white, and the floor covered in industrial gray carpeting. The rectangular florescent light bulbs above us could have come out of any business office in the world. It was even warmer in here, and I let out the barest breath of relief.

However, I noticed that Edythe didn't relax beside me, her entire body tense as she stared coldly down the hallway at the slight figure of Jonathan, who was standing by the elevator.

The door shut behind us with an ominous grinding of stone, and I heard the thud of a bolt being slid into place.

Jonathan stood motionless, waiting for us, one hand stretched out to hold open the door. He watched us without the slightest flicker of emotion.

Once we were inside the elevator, the three Volturi seemed more relaxed—relatively speaking. Cato and Tacita both pulled back their hoods, so their features were more clearly visible. They both had the same slightly olive complexion beneath the chalky pallor of their skin, and dark hair, Cato's neatly combed back, and Tacita's cut at a severe angle. Their eyes were a matching color of faded, dull crimson, like brick, with pupils deep and black as a starless night sky.

As the elevator dropped, I did my best to keep as close to Edythe and as far away from them as possible. Edythe's gaze never moved from Jonathan, who looked bored.

In a moment the elevator came to a sop, and we stepped out into yet another strangely modern room, a bright reception area. The walls were paneled wood, the floors carpeted in a deep green. Paintings of the Tuscan countryside decorated every wall, perhaps meant as a distraction from the fact there were no windows, and pale leather couches were spread out in cozy clusters. Cheerful, brightly colored flowers sat in crystal vases on every surface.

In the center of the room was a high, polished mahogany counter. As my eyes swept over the guy behind the counter, I did a double-take. He had a handsome dark face with dark hair, and his features were distinctly Arabian. But what drew my attention was the fact that he was clearly human as I was.

As we approached, the man smiled and dipped his head politely. "Good afternoon, Mr. Jonathan," he said. I had been right, his accent was Middle Eastern, though his English was flawless, as though he'd spent a few years at Oxford.

He showed no signs of surprise or curiosity at the new guests, Edythe in her sleeveless white shirt or me, trousers still damp to the knees and my hair disheveled.

Jonathan nodded once. "Ali." He walked straight past him to a set of double doors at the back of the room, and we followed.

On the other side waiting to receive us was another vampire. Dressed in a silk, slate gray dress, this one, like Jonathan, looked younger than almost any vampire I had ever seen. She could have been Jonathan's twin, with short hair only a little darker than his, and a face just as startlingly beautiful—in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they _were_ related. However, in one thing, she was different from any of the Volturi I had seen so far.

As soon as she saw us, her eyes brightened, and her mouth turned up in the smallest of smiles. She looked bright and cheerful, in sharp contrast to Tacita and Cato who, at the moment, were both solemn as Roman sentries.

"Alexa," said Jonathan, and his deadpan expression eased for the first time, very slightly. The two embraced, kissing one another on the cheek, before they both turned to look at us.

"This should be fun," Alexa said lightly, still smiling. "Welcome back, Edythe. We should thank you, for breaking the monotony. We haven't had so much excitement in a while..." She added as an afterthought, "It's good to see you in a better mood."

Edythe stared back at her, her onyx eyes flat.

Alexa laughed softly, a light, tinkling sound, then turned her eyes to me. She eyed my ragged, unkempt appearance. "So, this has been the source of your distress?" Her smile turned a little perplexed. "How peculiar."

Edythe didn't answer.

Alexa reached out and took Jonathan's hand, and they led the way down yet another wide, ornate hall, Tacita and Cato following silently behind us. Jonathan and Alexa ignored the gold-leafed doors at the far end, and instead came to a stop partway down, sliding aside a piece of paneling to reveal a hidden door. It wasn't locked, and Alexa cheerfully skipped ahead to hold it open for us.

As I passed through, I couldn't stop myself from grimacing slightly. We were back to the ancient stone, like the alley and sewers, and the temperature instantly dropped again.

We passed through the stone antechamber, and soon found ourselves in a brighter, cavernous room. The room was perfectly circular, like the turret of a castle, and I had a feeling that was exactly where we were. Two stories above our heads, long window slits cast rectangles of bright sunlight onto the floor below. The room was empty, but for a raised dais on the far side, with three wooden chairs, like thrones, set evenly spaced against the wall. At the center of the room was a slight depression that led to another drain. Perhaps the drain was used as an exit, as in the alleyway.

Apparently our arrival was anticipated. Vampires stood in precise military rows, forming a path across the room back to the dais, as though preparing for inspection by a commanding officer. Every one was in a long dark cloak, just likes the ones Tacita and Cato were wearing. They stood absolutely, unnaturally still, and their eyes stared straight ahead, and did not so much as glance at us as we passed between them. The room was silent.

We came to a stop just before the dais and the tall-backed thrones. Two of the chairs were empty, but on one was seated a single figure. Like the guards, she wore a long cloak, of a deep midnight black. She sat with her back perfectly straight, her hands lightly sitting on either armrest.

I couldn't help but stare.

Out of all the vampires I had ever seen, I did not think I'd ever seen a face so beautiful—except Edythe of course—or so sad. Her long hair fell in dark curling ribbons of glimmering satin around her face. Her skin was unlike that of any vampire I'd ever seen. It had a translucent, fragile quality, like finely blown glass. Her dark eyes, though covered in a faint misty white, were deep and wise, gentle with benign understanding.

However, beneath the mist, they glowed with a faint crimson.

"Ah, Jonathan," she sighed, in a voice as gentle and soothing as her face, and though she spoke barely above a murmur, her voice easily carried through the silent room. "You have returned." She did not look at Jonathan as she spoke.

"Yes, my lady," Jonathan replied quietly, his voice a careful monotone. I noticed Alexa was still holding his hand, and she rubbed it with her thumb affectionately.

The woman's eyes scanned over all of us, taking us in.

"This seems to be an agreeable turn of events," she said softly. "Very good work, Jonathan, you have brought them all. Young Archie...and dear Beau Swan, as well."

The way she said my name made me blink in surprise. She spoke knowingly, with a kind of familiar affection, as she might a favored nephew or the son of a close friend.

"Tacita," she said, her misty eyes not moving from my face. "Would you please go and retrieve Marcus and Athenodora?"

Beside me, I felt Edythe tense.

"Yes, Mistress," she replied, and her low voice was fervent, almost reverential. She was gone before I'd even seen her move.

Sulpicia turned her great deep eyes to Edythe.

"Now, my child," she said softly. "Didn't I warn you? How hasty passions can lead to unpleasant consequences? You must be glad now that one of us maintained some clarity of thought, and I did not grant you what you requested."

"Yes, Sulpicia," Edythe answered in a low, careful voice. "I am." Her entire body was still rigid with tension.

"There was some mistake, I suppose," Sulpicia mused. "Some...misunderstanding. I suppose your brother Archie, even with his tremendous powers, can be wrong on occasion."

Archie was frowning slightly, and he looked to Edythe questioningly. Like me, he must also be wondering about the familiarity of Sulpicia's tone when she referred to him.

As though Sulpicia had read his mind, her lips flickered in the barest hint of a smile. "But, I see I am being unpardonably rude. I think proper introductions are in order. Sometimes I forget...You see, your sister introduced me to you already yesterday, in a way I am sure you won't find too peculiar, given your sister's power."

We didn't move, just watched her carefully.

Sulpicia continued, "Sadly, I am limited in a way that she is not. I do not hear the thoughts of anyone standing here, as she does. I must have physical contact for my power to work."

"But you certainly get quite a bit more for your trouble," Edythe said dryly, still standing just a little in front of me. "I just hear whatever happens to be passing through a mind at the time. You hear every thought a person has ever had."

Sulpicia smiled slightly. "Yes, and that is useful. But there are many situations where your power would certainly be much more convenient." Her eyes flickered up, above our heads to the entrance. "Ah," she said softly. "There you are."

I turned a second after the others to see two figures in the doorway. I immediately recognized them from Carine's painting—one man with dark hair, and a woman with long hair of a silk blond. They both had the same milky eyes and paper-delicate skin as Sulpicia.

Both approached the dais, going up to their chairs on either side of Sulpicia. The man looked completely bored, as though he had seen one millennium too many. The woman eyed us with faint curiosity, though her eyelids sunk in such a way that I was sure she, too, must find this entire affair tedious.

Before taking up his place at Sulpicia's side, the man paused beside her, reaching out a finger to touch her palm. At first I thought it was an affectionate gesture, but then Sulpicia smiled and said, "Yes, you are right, Marcus. That is very interesting." And I realized that Marcus had been giving her his thoughts. The woman went to take her place without looking at Sulpicia.

Archie was looking almost as annoyed as I was starting to feel at being left out of the loop. Edythe muttered for his benefit in a low voice, "Marcus sees relationships. According to him, ours is a little...intense. Unusually so."

Sulpicia's eyes returned to us, still smiling. "Convenient," she murmured again. However, as she gazed at Edythe, her wise face turned slightly troubled.

" _Il Suo cantante_ ," she murmured softly, almost to herself. "I admit, I am amazed and perplexed...in your thoughts, I experienced for myself the effects. The strength of the call of his blood for you...I have never considered myself lacking in self control, but I admit, even I, in your place, I think I should not be able to..."

Her dark red eyes flickered to me, and Edythe went rigid.

Sulpicia smiled. "Do not fear, my self control is not inconsiderable. He is in no danger from me—not in that way. In no more danger than he would be with Carine, whose self-control I have never seen its equal."

"No..." she murmured, and though she was still speaking to Edythe, her eyes were still on me. "No, if I were in his place, it is _you_ I would fear."

The room was quiet. Edythe's gaze was fixed on Sulpicia, and never wavered.

Sulpicia shook her head, slowly. Everything she did seemed to have an unusual slowness about it—a deliberate restraint.

"And yet you exert this tremendous effort," she said softly, "maintain such a tight control over yourself. I know what Marcus sees is accurate—Your passion must be of truly extraordinary proportions." Sulpicia's face was mingled admiration, and, I thought, just a touch of disapproval.

"Love is a powerful thing," she murmured. "It is a valuable thing, beneficial. Where there is no true affection, there can be no peace. I know that it is love that has allowed Carine to maintain her chosen way of life, and bring others into that life as well. I am...gratified by her success. I admit, I did not expect it to last. I believed those she brought to her peculiar way of life would eventually give in, and be the worse for their period of self-imposed deprivation. But, I am happy to have underestimated her. I believe it to be a worthy endeavor." She paused. "However..."

Sulpicia's faraway gaze focused on Edythe again and, for the first time, beneath the mist her gentle eyes hardened.

"Love is beneficial," she repeated. "But as you must see, it can just as easily become a force of destruction. Love engenders powerful emotions—hatred, envy, desperation, fear—and so can be the source of great injustice, of violence. A ship which will remain stable on calm waters can easily be capsized in a raging storm."

Edythe did not reply, but every part of her was still stiff with tension, and she moved infinitesimally sideways, putting herself a little more between me and the ancient vampires sitting on the raised stone platform.

Sulpicia continued, "I do not revile your chosen way of life. As I said, I admire it. Your discipline, as well your beautiful sense of right and wrong, of justice."

She sighed deeply. "But after these events, it's clear to me that something has gone terribly wrong. Your sense of right and wrong, your commitment to do what is most just—it seems that, most unfortunately, you have become..." Sulpicia's eyes drifted to me, and again I saw the hardness beneath the vague mist. "...distracted."

Edythe's teeth were gritted, and she took a sharp step sideways, her stance defensive in front of me, no longer bothering to be subtle.

No one reacted, except that Sulpicia's expression became, if possible, even more troubled.

Her voice was soft as she said, "Fortunately, it seems everything has turned out for the best. The line between a happy ending and tragedy is often a thin one, and I am glad the balanced tipped toward the happy, this time. I will not interfere further, except to say that I do hope you will think on this, and consider the great danger your unchecked passions nearly thoughtlessly placed our kind."

Edythe still did not answer, but there was rigid hostility in every line of her frame. The guards Tacita and Cato were both tense, watching her closely.

"But," Sulpicia said. "That is done now, and let us speak no more of it. I did not ask Tacita and Cato to bring you here for that. No...I'm afraid there is another point of contention that must be addressed."

Sulpicia's almost gentle, pleading features turned suddenly hard as granite, and the crimson of her nearly black eyes seemed to deepen through the misty film. Her sharp gaze was fixed on me.

Edythe gripped my wrist.

Sulpicia's great gaze returned to Edythe. "He must be changed," she said abruptly. "When I first learned of your telling a human our secret, and it seemed probably that he was no longer of this world, I thought I would simply let the violation of our laws slide this time. But as he still lives, something must be done. The law must be upheld."

Edythe hesitated. She seemed to be considering her words carefully.

"You keep humans here," she said slowly. "Humans who are aware."

To my surprise, it wasn't Sulpicia, but the ancient with light silk hair—Athenodora—who spoke.

"Yes," she said, and she had a soft, thin voice, like the rustle of old paper. "But we keep them close. We can make certain they are no danger."

Edythe's eyes went briefly to Athenodora, then back to Sulpicia, as though not sure who to address. "Beau will keep the secret," Edythe said. "He's proved himself more than trustworthy." He eyes were fixed on Sulpicia. "You know that as well as I do."

"For now," Sulpicia said, and her voice was as cold as her face. "Humans may begin with good intentions, but their emotions are subject to constant change, and they often have little true understanding of a world that is not their own. As Athenodora has said, our humans are kept close, constantly screened for signs of weakness, but the same could not be done for yours. I know your mind, Edythe, that you are intelligent and in no short supply of sound judgment—but clearly, as I said, your mind has become clouded. You are incapable of clear and rational thought. He must be changed, or I will have no choice but to execute you both. And, if the rest of your coven support your rebellion, they as well."

I wanted to say something. I wanted to say yes, yes, I wanted to change. But Edythe's face was constricted with pain, eyes wide with horror.

"I'll do it."

Archie took a casual step forward. Sulpicia's eyes flickered, as did Edythe's and the two guards, to look at him.

"I'll do it," he said again. "Here, I'll show you." Archie sprang lightly onto the dais. Both Tacita and Cato, along with the guards who had entered with Athenodora and Marcus, all tensed, but Sulpicia put up a hand to signal them to stay where they were. Archie stepped forward, extending a hand, palm up.

Sulpicia took his hand between her own, and her eyes slid closed.

Seconds passed, and everything was perfectly still. I could barely breathe—what was she seeing? As the seconds turned to a full minute, I gripped my hand around Edythe's. Was something wrong?

Then, abruptly, Sulpicia's eyes opened, and she was smiling.

"Ah," she said. "It is so good to see that one of you is still in possession of some common sense."

Archie returned back to where Edythe and I stood, hands in his pockets, as Sulpicia said with air of wonder, "Such an extraordinary gift. Such premonitions would be very useful. Imagine, if we could dispatch criminals _before_ they committed their crimes. The great good that could be achieved."

"You already know it's not infallible," Archie pointed out. He gestured at me. "Here's some living proof of that. Sometimes the visions are just plain wrong, and people can always change their minds."

"Yes, I am aware of that," said Sulpicia, smiling. "But still, such a useful power, with such far-reaching implications. I think you don't give yourself enough credit. If you ever wanted a place among my guards...well, you should consider the position is open."

Archie shrugged and ducked his head.

Sulpicia's eyes turned to me. "Very well," she said. "It seems then that is settled. I do take into account the concerns Archie has—of the potential for suspicion in your community if you are changed immediately—and I think there is likely to be little danger over such a short period of time. But once you have completed your human schooling, then you must join us. Until then, you are sworn to secrecy."

I blinked as I realized that she was talking to me, and expecting an answer. I nodded dumbly.

Sulpicia glanced once at Edythe, then returned to me, and her eyes brightened a little. "And, speaking of great talents...I admit, I see potential. If you are able to block Edythe's power, I wonder if you are perhaps immune to other talents. May I...?"

She stretched out a slender hand invitingly. Even though the last thing I wanted was to have her poking around and seeing everything that had ever been in my head, I knew I didn't have much of a choice.

Edythe kept in front of me like a bodyguard as I approached the dais, and only stepped aside as I stepped clumsily up onto it. I could feel the eyes of the guards, and the other vampires standing in military rows off to the side on me, and I felt myself going red. It was a bad time for my blood to act up, and I really hoped I didn't trip or clip my finger on a bit of stone. If Jessamine, who had been abstaining from human blood for years, suddenly went berserk when I got a papercut, I hated to think what this room full of human-eating vampires would do if I spilled even a drop of blood here, no matter what Sulpicia said about her self control.

Sulpicia extended her hand to me, palm up. I tentatively reached forward and, as Marcus had done, touched her with a single finger.

Nothing happened. We stayed like that for a long moment, Sulpicia's eyes closed. Her face was initially relaxed, but then her brow furrowed, until the skin between her brows buckled with intense concentration.

Then her eyes abruptly opened again, and she was smiling, her serene features almost excited.

"Nothing," she pronounced. "Not a single thought. You will be a prodigious talent, I think, once you are turned. Such potential. I wonder what else you may be able to block..." Her dull crimson eyes flickered to Jonathan.

"No!" Edythe snarled.

"Just a little test," said Sulpicia softly. "It will take but a moment to see..."

Jonathan turned his cold red eyes on me, and I saw the corners of his lips turn up in the faintest of smiles.

"Don't, Edy!" Archie yelled, but Edythe was already moving in a blur of motion, straight toward the kid, her teeth bared, ready to strike.

She didn't make it. Jonathan's eyes, no longer bored, now bright with excitement, had suddenly shifted to Edythe, and Edythe instantly dropped like a stone.

As far as I could tell, no on had touched her—and yet I watched with horror as she convulsed and writhed, her teeth gritted as though to stifle a scream.

I suddenly realized why Edythe had given up the moment she had seen Jonathan, and why the others seemed to keep a bit of a distance from him. He had a talent Sulpicia considered useful, too.

I took a staggering step off the dais, arms outstretched toward where Edythe lay, staring at her familiar features distorted with agony. I couldn't seem to breathe. "Stop," I gasped, my entire body shaking. " _Please_ —"

Jonathan was gazing down at Edythe, and a light seemed to be glowing in his crimson eyes. He was smiling.

"That's enough," snapped Sulpicia, and Jonathan glanced up, blinking, as though startled from a trance. Sulpicia did not look at Jonathan as she said, in a lighter voice, "I'm sure that will more than suffice as a lesson for future reference. As you can surely see, Edythe, these irrational acts of defiance out of your passion do no one any good. Least of all this boy." She added kindly, "He will suffer no permanent harm. Only a second, I promise you."

My hands were still shaking as I approached Edythe, but she was already on her feet again in a blur of motion. Her eyes were wide, a terrified, trapped look in them. At first I thought she was still suffering the aftershock of the attack, but her gaze was on me, her face stricken with sick fear.

I turned to look at Jonathan, my eyes wide, as I waited for his power to hit me.

I felt Edythe relax beside me, and I heard her low laugh of relief.

I noticed Jonathan was glaring at me, his innocent, kid's face tense with frustration.

"Extraordinary," Sulpicia murmured. "Truly extraordinary. If this power has manifested itself to this degree while he is still human, imagine when he is turned."

Her crimson eyes studied me speculatively for a long moment, then she said, "Beau...Once you are changed, if you are interested, you may consider coming to see me again. If you do not find my dear friend Carine's way of life to your liking, I may be able to find a place for you among my guards. You could do great good for us. Such a power would be quite useful." Her gaze flitted momentarily to Jonathan, and in turn to Alexa, and she repeated in a murmur, almost to herself, "Yes, very useful..."

She drifted off into a kind of reverie, and the room was silent.

At last, Edythe said in a low voice, "And is that all?"

Sulpicia blinked, coming back to the present. She smiled. "Yes, I see no reason to detain you further. However, I must ask that you remain within the compound until after nightfall. After all, with what almost happened today, I'm sure you can understand our wanting to be a bit on the cautious side."

Edythe's jaw was rigid, but she nodded once.

"I think it will be best if you wait below. We are expecting a—ah—shipment in at any moment, and if he is too close...well, I can't be responsible for what might happen then."

Edythe nodded again, very curtly, then quickly spun, taking me by the wrist.

"One last thing," Sulpicia said. "It is a little cold out for the humans today, so take this. It may make you a little less conspicuous." She eyed the thin, sleeveless shirt and Edythe's bare arms, then nodded at Tacita, who reached up and undid the clasp of her cloak.

Edythe reluctantly took the offered cloak from Tacita, then fastened it around her shoulders.

Sulpicia smiled as she admired it. "You, too, would make an excellent guard," she said softly. "Beyond your extraordinary power, you have a satisfyingly strong sense of justice. If you were able to overcome these inconvenient passions that have recently possessed you, I would also offer you a place on my guard."

I noticed out of the corner of my eye, Jonathan was eying Edythe with cold dislike, as was Tacita, though Tacita's gaze also flickered briefly to Jonathan.

For the first time, Edythe almost smiled. "That could be a long time."

Sulpicia sighed. She murmured, "Oh, I am fully aware of that."

Edythe suddenly stiffened, and Sulpicia straightened a little. "You had best be going now," she said. "Cato, please escort them below."

Edythe didn't need to be told twice, and she suddenly had an arm clamped around my waist and was hauling me forward, pulling me after Cato through the door. Archie was right on our heels.

"Not gonna make it," Archie muttered under his breath, and Edythe gritted her teeth.

"What?" I whispered hoarsely. "What's happening?"

Just then I heard the tramp of feet up ahead, coming from the more ornate hallway beyond. Cato spread out an arm, silently gesturing for us to get back against the wall. We had only just done so as a crowd of people emerged through the door, walking single file, heading straight through the small antechamber and into the turret room beyond.

I did a slight double-take, as I realized that every single one of them was a human. I saw a beefy guy covered head to foot in tattoos, and another with a long gray beard. There was a thin guy who couldn't have been much older than me with ratty hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a woman with dyed hair and a ring through her nose. Most of them looked a little unkempt, with disheveled clothes and hair that looked as though they hadn't been washed in a while. No one spoke—they just marched forward in an uneven line, eyes glazed. They didn't seem to notice us.

The group—perhaps thirty or forty I thought altogether—passed by us, going on in to the larger room beyond, where Sulpicia and the rest of the guard waited. There was a small break in the crowd, and Edythe grabbed me and began to drag me toward the door. However, I turned my eyes back a moment, and I could just see the front of the crowd as they came to a stop in a rough, disorganized cluster at the center of the chamber. Standing, I thought, right over where I'd seen the massive drain.

I felt something icy drop my stomach as I realized what was about to happen. What Sulpicia had meant by _shipment_.

The crowd was no longer completely quiet now. I began to hear dull murmurs, of fear and confusion, like people being brought out of a trance. Sulpicia's gentle voice drifted back to us.

"Welcome to Volterra," she said. "There is no need for alarm. You have all been specially selected...Your entire lives, every choice you have ever made, has been leading up to this moment..."

Edythe had me through the door, Archie right behind us. We found the ornate, golden hallway was quiet, empty but for one man standing at the center. He was as beautiful as any of his companions, with flawless alabaster skin and cropped dark hair. However, his face was fixed in a grave, official expression.

"Welcome back, Jovian," said Cato. "A successful trip?"

Jovian nodded, his expression unchanged. "About the usual."

"Any with clean blood this time?" Cato asked conversationally.

Jovian wrinkled his nose slightly. "A few. But that makes them more troublesome. The power doesn't work quite so well on those with clear minds...I was forced to render the two serial rapists unconscious several times. Very irritating."

"Jonathan will be happy," said Cato encouragingly. "He prefers clean blood." He added, "Don't bother about which ones you save for me. I'm not particular. I think cocaine in the blood gives it a bit of flavor."

Jovian wrinkled his nose again, as though he thought Cato might be slightly mad, but otherwise didn't comment. He didn't even look at me as he passed through the doors into the room.

We hurried down the hall, Edythe practically dragging me along. However, we didn't quite make it to the door at the opposite end of the hallway before any impression of order was dispelled as the first screams cut through the quiet.

* * *

A/N: And, there's the first glimpse of the Volturi, and Sulpicia. There will be some more about them in the next chapter. (Part of why I expect that one will be a little long in coming, too. But I've been working on it in bits and pieces all along while I've been working on other chapters, so that should help.)

Thanks so much for reading, and for all your comments last chapter! :J If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time~

Posted 7/5/16


	23. Flight

A/N: Hey, back again! (I was out for a couple of weeks on vacation, and then this chapter was a particularly tricky one, so that's why this one's taken so long. I sort of figured it would. X3)

Oh yeah, just for a head's up—I made a correction in the last chapter. _La tua cantante_ is the feminine form of 'your singer,' whereas it should have been the masculine form. (I also made it a more formal version, since Sulpicia is less personable than Aro. x3) You'll also see it in its corrected form in this chapter.

(*Edit May 2017: Actually, what I changed it to was still not quite the correct form. [Not helped by the fact it was surprisingly hard to find proper explanations of Italian possessive articles online when I was doing my original research, and even if I've never studied Italian, I have studied French, and French has some very similar words that seemingly work differently. x3] Thanks so much to MelindaHP for pointing it out. C: It should actually be correct now. [For real this time. I hope.])

Anyway, thanks so much for reading! See you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 22: Flight

Cato left us in the cheerfully opulent reception area, where Ali, the tall guy with dark hair and skin, was still at his post behind the polished counter. Bright, jaunty music, like music in an elevator, played lightly in the background.

"You won't be leaving until after dark," Cato told us. "Someone will be sent to inform you when you may go." With a final polite dip of his head, he turned and strode back out, in the direction of the circular stone chamber.

Edythe pulled me over toward one of the sofas, her expression a mask of anxiety as she studied my face. "Beau? Beau, are you all right?"

I found my eyes wandering over the room. It all looked so ridiculously normal, like any old business office back in Phoenix. Brightly lit, sterile, safe.

"Let's get him sat down," Archie said, his voice unusually urgent. "I think he's going to..."

I only heard what he was saying vaguely, like in a dream. I looked down at my hands, and saw they were trembling. When I brought a hand to my face, I found it felt cold and slick with sweat. My stomach was twisting violently, and I covered my hand with my mouth, sure I was going to be sick.

Edythe didn't need to be told twice and, supporting almost all my weight, guided me to the sofa furthest from the reception desk.

"It's okay, it's okay," she murmured in my ear, almost frantically, as she helped me down to the sofa. Using the cloak to insulate me from the cold, she encircled me in her arms and pulled me to her. "Shh," she murmured in a low, soothing voice, "it's going to be okay, Beau, it's going to be fine."

I tried to speak, but I couldn't. All those people—I didn't know what they were, rapists, murderers, or just druggies—but it didn't really matter. To die such a horrible death, having no idea what was coming—

This was the world of vampires. Edythe's world. The world I made up my mind to join.

I held onto Edythe as though my life depended on it. I concentrated on breathing deeply, in and out, in and out.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" someone asked. My head jerked up automatically and I saw the receptionist, Ali, standing a few feet away, his expression politely concerned. He must have seen the wild, crazed look on my face, but his mask of professionalism didn't waver.

Edythe turned to glare at him. "Nothing, thank you," she said stiffly, in a sharp voice plainly meant to be taken as a dismissal.

If Ali was intimidated, he didn't show it, and only nodded in reply. "Please let me know if you need anything."

He returned to his desk on the other side of the room, and Edythe glared after him for a moment, making me wonder what he was thinking. I realized his interruption had distracted me long enough I had stopped shivering and as I turned to Edythe I heard myself ask in a low voice, "Does...he know?"

Edythe's eyes returned to my face, and her gaze was mournful. "Yes," she said in an undertone. "He knows everything."

I was quiet as I digested that. As my thoughts returned to the stone chamber, I had to swallow the bile that rose in my throat, and my flickered back to Ali, who had now drawn out a piece of cloth, and was calmly wiping down the edges of the already immaculate desk, as though he hadn't a care in the world.

"Isn't he afraid?" I asked suddenly, my hoarse voice accusatory. "Doesn't he know it could be him next?"

Edythe rubbed my arm soothingly, and she reached up to touch my face. "Yes, he knows," she said quietly. "He isn't supposed to be killed, at least so long as his genuine loyalty toward them remains intact—but he knows accidents have happened before, and are likely to happen again."

I looked down, afraid he would notice me staring, but before long my gaze wandered back over to the desk. "Why does he do it then?" I murmured, almost to myself.

"He's hoping they'll decide to let him join them," Edythe said quietly.

I turned back to stare at her. "He...wants to become one of thm?" I asked in a low voice. "One of the Volturi?"

"Yes," she said softly. "Or at least—a vampire. He lost his entire family to a terrorist attack, his wife and two young children. When he discovered that such a power existed...he dreams now of having the power to someday tracking the ones responsible down and making them pay."

I looked down. Revenge—I wondered if that was a legitimate reason to want to become a monster. Maybe it was. Maybe every time Sulpicia brought in a group of humans to eat, Ali imagined them to have the faces of the people who had murdered his family, and that was why he didn't care. I wondered if he had found my horror disgusting.

My head spun, I didn't know what to think. However, my confused, slightly panicked eyes drifted and came to meet Edythe's, and I suddenly remembered that the two of us were finally together again, and we weren't dead. Some of the heavy thoughts of the whirling conflict weighing down my mind faded to the back, and I felt myself relax.

My arms tightened and I drew myself close as I could. "Edythe," I breathed. I couldn't afford to waste even a minute of this time I had left. Now that this was over, her guilty conscience assuaged, soon she would be gone again. I had to make the most of every second. "Edythe."

She smiled up at me, tracing her fingers along the back of one of my hands.

As I looked back into her face, content, I noticed suddenly again that her eyes were flat black, and dark purple bruises hung beneath them.

"Oh," I said, drawing back slightly. "You're hungry, aren't you?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted.

I hesitated, glancing over at Archie, who was sitting on another couch nearby, arms folded, staring off into space. Keeping my face away from hers so I wouldn't accidentally breathe my scent on her, I suggested, "Maybe I better go sit with Archie." However, I couldn't quite keep the painful reluctance from my voice.

Edythe smiled and laughed softly, and before I could move to let go, her hand closed over mine, holding me there. With her free hand, she raised a finger to stroke my jaw, turning my face toward hers, until our faces were barely inches apart. I held my breath.

"What?" she said in a low, amused voice. "Don't tell me, after all this time, you're finally developing a proper sense of fear. What Sulpicia said finally get through to you, did it?"

The lack of oxygen and the scent of her breath on my face made me dizzy, and I couldn't keep it up. I turned my head away, letting the air out in a sigh, and I muttered, "I know it just makes it harder on you."

Edythe laughed again, the sound like the tinkling of crystal bells, then pressed her lips to my neck, and laid her head against my chest. I knew she was listening to the sound of my blood, pumping through my heart and rushing through my veins.

"It's not hard," she murmured. "It's never been easier than it is right now."

I didn't have the will to argue, and I settled in again, letting my arms grip her even more tightly than before. I made up my mind not to worry about anything right now—not the horror going on in the other room, not the guy watching me from across the room with what I was sure was secret disdain, and not the real reasons why Edythe was holding me to her just like in the days in the far gone past. I didn't care if it was purely out of relief from guilt or an effort to make sure I didn't freak out again—I knew I only had a little time left now, but I was determined to make the most of every moment.

The room was quiet, but for the occasional rustling of paper from Ali's desk, until at last Edythe and Archie started in discussing how we would get home, talking so low and fast I missed most of it. It sounded like theft would be involved again, and I decided to leave that to them.

I let my eyes slide closed, and just concentrated on savoring the feeling of Edythe in my arms, and the feeling of the tips of her fingers as they caressed my hand, occasionally reaching up to my face.

Archie shook me briefly from my trance as he said, "So, _il Suo cantante._ 'Your singer.' What was that about?"

I'd wondered about that too at the time, and I blinked, perking up slightly.

Edythe sighed, her fingers tracing the bones in my hand, sliding down to the knob on the side of my wrist, then back. "Beau's blood's allure for me—" she began in a murmur, "they have a word for it. When a human's blood calls to you in a particular, powerful way, they call that human your _singer_. Because their blood sings to you." She added with just a touch of exasperation, "It's supposed to be quite rare."

"You're just lucky," Archie commented, with a bit of a grin.

Edythe's mouth pursed slightly, and she didn't look amused. "Apparently," she muttered dryly. However, as her eyes slid once again to my face, her irked expression relaxed, and she reached up to stroke my jaw again.

Archie and Edythe continued to talk in low voices, and my eyelids began to feel heavy. However, I didn't let myself sleep. Instead, I leaned against Edythe, simply drinking in the soft sound of her voice.

Eventually, they lapsed into silence. Without the outside stimulation, my eyes slid closed several without my permission, and each time I had to shake my head before sleep could overtake me.

Of course Edythe noticed, and she looked up with concern. With a fingertip, she traced the dark circles beneath my eyes. "If you need to sleep, you should sleep," she said softly. "Archie and I will wake you when it's time to go."

I shook my head mutely. With some desperation, I tried to think of some of the questions that had occurred to me earlier. Anything to keep my brain from shutting down.

"Hey," I said in a low voice, and was surprised to find it hoarse with disuse. "Um, can I ask you something?"

Edythe eyed me warily. "What is it?"

The big ones were eluding me at the moment, so I said the first one that came to my mind. "You know, what Sulpicia said before...about love being a force of destruction?" I began. "Um, does she really believe that?"

Edythe gazed back at me, and she seemed surprised by the question. She traced her fingers along my arm for a moment, seeming to consider. "Yes," she said at last. "Wholeheartedly. Perhaps even more than she expressed." She paused, eying me curiously. "Why? Why do you ask?"

I frowned slightly, trying to think how to put my thoughts into words. "I guess...it's just, it's hard to imagine looking at love as a bad thing," I said finally. "At least, in the way she meant. I could see her looking at love as a weakness or something, maybe...but destruction? Seems kind of overly dramatic, or something." I tried to smile.

Edythe's lips gave a slight twitch, but her eyes were sad. "Perhaps. But you also have to understand Sulpicia's history. She has good reason for thinking as she does."

I was feeling slightly more awake now, and I tried to think what Archie had told me. "She turned against her husband when he went bad," I remembered.

Edythe nodded. "When Aro murdered Marcus's mate—his own sister—in secret, Sulpicia betrayed him to Marcus, and his soldiers seized Aro. She watched his execution."

I stared out at the bright reception area, at the carefully arranged couches and ornate rug by the coffee table. It was hard to imagine— turning on your own mate, someone you had loved, and just standing by and watching him die.

"She must have really hated him," I said in a low voice, thoughtful. "After what he did..." I wondered if Sulpicia had cared for Aro's sister—if maybe she had also been like a sister to her. I wondered if that had been enough to make Sulpicia's heart like flint.

Edythe sighed, leaning back against the sofa, eyes sliding closed. "That's the funny thing," she murmured. "Sulpicia doesn't hate him, not then, and not now." Her dark eyes opened, to stare up at the ceiling, and I saw in them mingled confusion and awe. "She hasn't the slightest regret for her decision, and yet she loves him even still. Every time she uses her power, she thinks of him, and misses him."

We were all silent for a long moment. At last Edythe said, so softly I almost didn't catch it, "I can read her mind, but that doesn't mean I understand. I don't understand how she was able to do it, and then continue to live on, for decades, centuries. If I were in her place...I could never have done what she did."

Edythe was staring straight ahead now, and I saw a flicker of the old frustration in her brow, a trace of the look she usually only reserved for me, when I wouldn't tell her what I was thinking.

"But," I said, trying to make my voice light. "Aro was crazy, right? If I became a vampire and turned into some kind of crazed, dictator-wannabee, you would have to do something to stop me, too. Right?"

It was all a joke, of course. We weren't together anymore. Things felt just like they once had been for the present, because Edythe was so happy and relieved she hadn't inadvertently been responsible for my demise after all, but I knew in the end everything still stood as it had last September. It didn't change a thing.

Edythe looked up at me, and she didn't smile. Instead, a wild flicker passed across her features, her black eyes wide with something like panic. Before I could think of anything to say, her eyes dropped away from mine. She pressed her face to my chest, her icy fingers tightly gripping mine, and she didn't reply.

I sighed slightly, and leaned back against the couch, lifting my eyes to the ceiling as I imagined the scenes Edythe and Archie had told me. Aro, spinning to stare at his wife with the mingled fury and pain of betrayal as he realized what was happening, alternately cursing her for her treachery and pleading to know why. Sulpicia, standing rigidly behind Marcus's soldiers, her wise eyes sad, but her expression set in stone, ready to act for the good of all.

Another question occurred to me, and I said, "So why is it Sulpicia always thinks of Aro when she uses her gift?"

Edythe looked back up at me. She seemed herself again, calm and relaxed. She took my hand, twining our fingers together, and she beamed up at me, and her familiar dimpled smile was so dazzling I completely forgot I'd even asked a question until she said, "Because it wasn't really her gift, it was Aro's."

I had to blink away the stars from my eyes and shake my head before I raised my eyes to look at her again, nonplussed. She elaborated.

"When Marcus and his soldiers captured Aro, they didn't kill him right away. His gift was far too valuable to simply destroy—Aro was capable of drawing out an enemy's most sensitive battle secrets, what gifts vampires in any given coven possessed, even their individual predispositions and weaknesses, all at the touch of a finger. The remaining Volturi knew that, without his power, their plans to unite our world and establish order were most likely destined for failure. Consequently, Sulpicia went in search of a new power, and she found Mele, the thief. The girl had the power to steal a vampire's born extra talent and pass it to someone else. Mele stole Aro's power, and gave it to Sulpicia."

I remembered the picture of the little girl in Carine's painting. And I remembered what Archie had said about her.

"So, this girl could steal abilities and pass them along to someone else," I said slowly. "So if she was still around, if she wanted you or Archie's powers, she could have just taken them. But...she's not around, is she?"

Edythe nodded, and didn't seem surprised I knew this. "Yes. She was...killed."

I shook my head. "How?" I wondered. I remembered the long lines of vampires standing stiff and at attention in the stone chamber, Sulpicia's loyal guard. There had been so many—more than twice the number in Carine's coven, probably more, and it was hard to imagine anyone getting close enough to Sulpicia or any of the other core members of their clan to lay a finger on them.

Edythe sighed. "It's a bit of a long story."

I glanced around at the empty reception room. "I think we have time." I was eager for more—I didn't feel remotely sleepy anymore, and I was keen to keep it that way.

Edythe smiled, and stroked her finger along my jaw. "I see your point."

Edythe's hand dropped to mine, and she began to trace the knuckles again, back and forth, in a light pattern as she began.

"It happened over half a century ago. A vampire with a particularly dangerous natural talent was amassing an army of our kind, preparing to overthrow the Volturi and seize power for himself. His born talent allowed him to take control of others—by simply looking into the eyes of another, he had the power to take control of their will, to force them to do his bidding. You saw Jovian's power earlier—this was very much like that, only a thousand times more potent, and it worked on our kind as well as humans. The Volturi's own guards and most powerful talents could all be turned against them in a moment.

"The fact that the Volturi would be wiped from existence and replaced with a new regime seemed inevitable—Mele, however, saw what she had to do. Small and fast as she was, she had a knack for sneaking into places undetected, and she stole into the enemy camp. She managed to place a hand on the leader, and she took his ability from him. Seeing what she had done and now powerless, in a blind rage, he destroyed her."

I stared up at the ceiling, trying to process all this. It was so strange to think that Mele—one of the core Volturi, who had been there almost from the beginning, three thousand years—was gone. Just like that. And it really hadn't been that long ago either. Carine would have been around then, and Edythe, and almost all the rest of the Cullens. I wondered what they had thought at the time, or if they even knew about it.

Edythe continued, shaking me from my thoughts.

"It was not long later that the Volturi came, and seized the leader of the rebellion. When Sulpicia touched him, she knew immediately what had happened to her little thief—and she was possessed of such a rage that the vampire world had never seen the like of it. Sulpicia unleashed the full might of Volturi's armies on the vampire world, personally leading her forces to track down and slaughter not only every rebel, but everyone who had so much as breathed a word in support of the rebellion. Her rage was like a blazing inferno, and she rained down terror on the whole of Europe. As most of the vampires who held territory anywhere near the conflict had believed that the Volturi would certainly be destroyed, almost all had swayed in their loyalties, out of fear if nothing else, and Sulpicia showed them no mercy. For three years she led her forces back and forth across Europe, until almost all our kind in that area of the world but a select few were all but wiped out."

I was quiet as I digested that. At last I said, "I'm surprised someone didn't notice that."

Edythe chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. "The human world was a bit preoccupied at the time. Let's just say, not all the deaths attributed to Adolf Hitler were entirely his doing."

I nodded slowly. I supposed that made sense—during the mayhem of World War II, a few more fields of burning corpses wouldn't have attracted that much attention.

Suppressing the shudder that went down my spine, I said, "Is that what she was thinking about? When she said that love can be a force of destruction."

Edythe nodded. "Yes," she said softly. "One of the things, anyway."

I was silent for a minute, thinking. I couldn't seem to figure Sulpicia out. She seemed so gentle, so kind, and exuded an aura of wisdom accumulated through the centuries. In a way, she reminded me just a little of Carine. Yet I'd felt beneath the surface a coldness about her too. Now that I'd heard what she was capable of, it only seemed all the more obvious.

At last I asked, "Is Sulpicia a good guy or a bad guy?"

Edythe smiled grimly. "I don't know, Beau. By your human standards, she's probably a bad guy. She has killed many, and ordered many executions. She eats humans, many of them innocent, even if she does make an effort to stick mainly to criminals where possible. Don't be fooled by her gentle facade—she is ruthless, and she will eliminate anything that threatens the order she and the other two have built."

Edythe paused for a moment, then added grudgingly, "However, by vampire standards...I could see, in terms of rulers, where we could do worse."

I nodded slowly, staring off into space. I found my thoughts wandering back to the room with the drain at the center of the floor, and though we couldn't hear any screaming in here, I felt the sweat break out on my palms again.

"Tell me more," I said quickly, almost urgently, wanting any distraction. "About Sulpicia. The Volturi."

Edythe glanced up, startled by my intensity. She thought for a moment. "Well, several of the guards Sulpicia has now have abilities that were not originally their own. Before they lost Mele, whenever Sulpicia came across an ability she believed would be useful, if the vampire in question did not have the disposition to live up to the ideals of the Volturi, Mele could take the power and transfer it to a worthy member of her guard. Sometimes she asked permission—sometimes not."

I thought about that. I remembered the even, stoic faces of the guard members, only one not like the others stuck out in my mind.

"What about Jonathan?" I asked.

Edythe glanced up at me curiously. "What about him?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. He just seemed a little sadistic. More than the others."

Edythe's expression was thoughtful. "Jonathan seems to be an odd case. I picked up a great deal while we were in there—Sulpicia has such a vast mind, always working on multiple levels of thought, not only engaged in the here and now, but constantly aware of factors in the past that have led up to the present. I was able to get bits and pieces. It seems like Sulpicia has been aware that such a dangerous power as Jonathan possesses was prone to abuse, and she knew she ought to have transferred the power to someone else—someone of a more responsible mindset. But for some reason...she didn't."

Edythe shrugged. "It could be because Jonathan's sister—Alexa, who was changed at the same time he was—loved him, and Sulpicia did not want to split the two. Or perhaps something about their story—they exhibited odd powers when they were still human, and were badly abused as a result—made Sulpicia pity him enough to grant him a chance. I don't know if Sulpicia herself knows for sure. In any case, she always hoped that Jonathan might mellow out, once he was in a new environment, where he was not being persecuted by raging mobs and given something like a family."

"But it didn't work?" I guessed.

Edythe shook her head. "Actually, I think he might have been better at first. Jonathan and Alexa both loved Sulpicia like a mother. Sulpicia hoped that, because they were around the same age when they were changed, the two of them might be friends for Mele. But...instead, it seems that Jonathan resented Mele for being Sulpicia's favorite. And he's only grown to resent her more over time, even now that's she's dead. And that's only made him worse. Sulpicia regrets not taking his power and giving it to someone else when she still had the chance, but of course now it's too late. Jonathan's powers—and Alexa's, too—are too important to the Volturi's offensive power to be destroyed, even if she thought any of her other guard members could get close enough to do so."

I considered that. "But why does he stay then? Jonathan, I mean. If he's not happy, why doesn't he and his sister just pack up and leave?"

Edythe shrugged. "There are benefits to being part of the Volturi. You have authority and prestige. You don't have to work for your food. Even though Sulpicia herself and many of the other guards are very disciplined, limiting themselves to dregs—blood often tainted with drugs and various illegal substances—Jonathan and Alexa are always given the first choice. And it seems like—I think Jonathan does want Sulpicia's approval, even now. That's why he hates the memory of Mele so much."

I thought about that. "Wow," I muttered. "Kind of sounds like a Gothic soap opera. Life with the Volturi must be exciting." I added, "Sure you don't want to join? Sulpicia said you were in, if you just got over the inconvenient passions thing."

Edythe smiled a little. "I think I'll pass. Though it really is such a sacrifice. I absolutely crave relationship drama."

We both laughed softly. However, it faded back into silence.

Edythe was staring straight ahead at the far wall of the reception room, and her face was thoughtful again.

"I think..." she said slowly, uncertainly. "I think Jonathan—and Alexa, too— _can't_ leave. There's something that keeps them bound to the Volturi, and Sulpicia. The others are loyal to Sulpicia and her ideals because Sulpicia chose them specifically. Look at Tacita—she would cut off her own hand and burn it if Sulpicia ordered her to. But Jonathan and Alexa...when Athenodora said that they had their ways to keep their humans under control, she was thinking of the two of them. As far as anyone knows, Athenodora doesn't have an extra talent, but it felt like—she has some kind of influence. However they control the humans, I think they're doing the same thing with Jonathan and Alexa, though Jonathan and Alexa don't seem to be aware of it. But I only got the vaguest sense—it seemed like Sulpicia and Athenodora were being careful not to think of any details. But somehow, it seems like those two are under their control."

I didn't reply. I was starting to understand why Edythe had seemed so wary of Sulpicia from the very start. But maybe it made sense—someone didn't get to be the ruler of the world of vampires by being gentle and benign. There seemed something sickening and wrong about trapping someone, taking way their freewill, but if Sulpicia had to be keeping someone under her control, Jonathan seemed the right one. As I pictured his face in my mind again, I felt a chill down my spine, and I hated to think what would happen if he was unleashed on the world, allowed to do whatever he wanted.

The rest of the time we spent in silence, but for a little more talk between Edythe and Archie, again too low and fast for me to make out. Again I closed my eyes, and concentrated on the feeling of Edythe in my arms, trying to lock the memory in my mind, trying not to think about the next day, when most likely, Edythe would be gone again.

Several times my mind wandered back to Sulpicia, and her long, sad story. What she had said about love and destruction. It had seemed such an outrageous thing to say at the time, but the more I thought, the more I found myself agreeing with it. Love did have the power to destroy, maybe more than anything else. I ought to know that as well as anyone. It didn't just destroy by inciting violence—it could hollow you out and leave you empty, when you had it and lost it. These past few months, it had been love that had broken me.

But I disagreed with Sulpicia on one thing. Even if it had been love that had destroyed me, I wouldn't go back and change a thing. I didn't regret loving Edythe. I would rather have experienced this love, and suffer the pain a thousand times, than to have never had it at all.

Time passed. After what felt like an age, a pair of figures strolled through the double doors. I tensed where I was, my eyes dropping to the floor.

It was the girl Alexa, and Jonathan was with her. Their eyes glowed a vivid ruby from across the room. Alexa, beaming at us like we were all best chums, chirped, "Lady Sulpicia says you're all free to leave now. She asks that you please do not linger in the city, if that's all right."

Even Jonathan was looking a little better-natured. He was holding Alexa's hand, and his slight smile lacked the vindictive edge of before.

They turned and left the way they had come, Alexa giggling, and Jonathan smiling warmly down at her.

When they were gone, Ali approached us. "Simply follow the hallway around the corner to the first set of elevators," he said as we all got up, Edythe keeping a tight hold on my arm in case I showed signs of unsteadiness again. "You will find the lobby two floors down, and it exits onto the street." He added in a pleasant voice, "Have a fine day, miss, sirs."

I was relieved we wouldn't be going back through the underground, and as we passed through the lobby on the ground floor and through the front doors, I turned back a minute to look at the castle we had just come from. It was strange, the ancient and modern coexisting in one place—the luxurious couches and regulated temperature, white florescent lights, all inside a castle straight out of medieval times, where people were devoured by monsters.

The festival was still going strong down here on the streets, red flags fluttering in the breeze as the night lamps sputtered to life. The sky was a dark gray overhead, fading toward black.

Edythe wasn't at all conspicuous in her long dark cloak, as there were plenty of others dressed up for the occasion, and some even topped it off with a few plastic fangs.

After everything that had happened in the castle, being around ordinary people again gave everything a strangely surreal feel. It took a little while before I realized that Archie was no longer with us.

"Hey," I said in a low voice. "We're missing someone."

"Archie's gone to get us a ride," Edythe explained. She had an arm wrapped around my back, and her other hand held mine.

I remembered that Archie had probably ditched the Porsche somewhere in the city, and by now it had most likely been towed or identified as stolen.

"Stealing another car?" I said with a sigh.

Edythe smiled a little. "We're going to meet him outside."

We passed through the dark stone archway of the entrance to the city. My eyes flickered up automatically to the gate, hanging above our heads like it would drop on us the moment we tried to get out. I didn't relax until we reached the other side.

Edythe led me to a dark car rumbling in the shadows just to the right of the gate, and we slid into the backseat.

"Sorry," Archie called back to us, gesturing to the dashboard. "Not much to choose from this time."

Edythe smiled a little. "That's fine, Archie. We're not in any hurry." Edythe again slid her arm around behind me, using the cloak to shield me against the cold.

Archie sighed wistfully. "Porsche 911 Turbo—she handled like a dream, you can't imagine. I'm going to get me one just like her, just as soon as I get the chance."

Edythe's eyes were still on me, and I saw the familiar dimples in her smile. "I'll get you one for Christmas."

Archie turned to grin at her, which made me wince, as we were already speeding like maniacs down the curvy dark road. "You're the best, Edy. Make it yellow."

I blinked, and I realized my eyelids were starting to feel heavy again. Edythe said softly in my ear, "You can sleep now, Beau. It's over. We're safe."

I blinked hard, forcing my eyes to stay open. "I'm not tired," I lied. I looked down at her, studying her face, determined not to succumb. I was going to live in this dream as long as I could.

"You really should try to get some rest," Edythe said gently, gazing up at me with some concern.

"I'm fine," I said, reaching over to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "I'm wide awake."

Edythe sighed, and reached up to adjust the cloak so that my skin wouldn't come into contact with hers. However, she took my hand again.

I managed to stay awake the entire drive, and I was relieved when we got into the airport and the bright lights stimulated my brain and brought me out of my dazed stupor. Archie nabbed some new clothes for Edythe and I from somewhere, and I was finally able to get out of my heavy jeans, which were still damp from the knees down. Edythe buttoned a steel-gray collared shirt over the sleeveless one, and pulled on a light jacket, discarding the Volturi cloak in the trash. We took the short flight to Rome, which was too short for me to be in danger of falling asleep, but after we settled in for the flight from Rome to Atlanta, I ordered a Coke from the flight attendant.

Edythe looked up at me with disapproval. "You really need to sleep, Beau," she said in a low voice, a little more forcefully than before.

"I'm good," I lied again. "Really."

Edythe reached up, and with a delicate finger once again traced the the black crescents beneath my eyes. Her lips pursed slightly, and her eyes were worried. "Please, Beau," she said softly. "Won't you try to sleep for a bit? It would make me feel better."

I knew she wasn't going to let it go, so I sighed and said quietly, "If I go to sleep now, I'll have nightmares."

Edythe hesitated, then looked away. She didn't say anymore about it.

My eyelids were feeling like lead now, but I fought it hard. I had to keep awake. I knew there were a lot of questions I needed to ask her, and this would be the perfect time to ask them—but I held off. Somehow I felt, however illogically, like if I put them off longer, then that would mean I would get more time with her. I wanted to draw it out as long as possible.

I just kept sipping away at my soda, trying not to let my eyes fall closed even for an instant. Edythe leaned her head against my shoulder, holding my hand, her other arm around me. Her fingers gently traced over my knuckles, back and forth, in an endless loop. Occasionally she would turn and lean over to press her icy lips to the side of my neck, or the side of my jaw.

I was conflicted. After everything we had just lived through, I wanted nothing more than to turn my head and press my lips to hers, to revel in the pure relief and joy of the fact that she was alive, and we were together, for a little while at least. Just a pet to her or not, I didn't think she would turn away right now. However, though I'd made up my mind to make the most of this all too temporary reunion, at the back of my mind I knew it was time to start steeling myself again for separation. I knew I was going to be completely torn apart, destroyed, there was no avoiding that, but if I mentally prepared myself, just a little, maybe I wouldn't be left completely comatose. I had my dad to think about. And Jules. She was going to be so pissed when we got back—but she would be happy, too. Happy I wasn't dead.

I couldn't think about the pending separation just now, or the future—it was too much to take. But I held on to the tiny spark of hope—hope that, even as I was completely destroyed again beyond recognition, I'd still have something to come back to.

Edythe didn't say a word the entire time. Maybe she was still hoping I'd sleep, or maybe she just had nothing to say.

We touched down in Atlanta, then headed to our next and final flight. As we neared the Sea-Tac airport, I stared out at the sky, where the sun was beginning to rise over Seattle's cloud cover, before Edythe reached over and closed the shutter. I felt invigorated. I hadn't dozed off even once the entire way.

I was little startled as we headed out the exit to find people there, waiting for us. I saw Jessamine first—she made a line straight for us, going to Archie. They didn't hug or kiss like some of the other couples, but simply gazed at one another, their eyes full of such deep emotion that after a moment I looked away to give them their privacy.

Carine and Earnest were there, too, waiting for us in the shadow of a pillar. The moment we were there, Earnest came forward, putting an arm around me. "Thank you, Beau," he murmured. "We can never repay you."

He turned to Edythe next and wrapped her in a fierce hug, then held her back at arm's length. "You are in so much trouble, young lady," he said, his voice low with emotion.

"I'll do the dishes for the next ten years," Edythe said with a bit of a laugh, putting an arm around him in return, though she kept one arm latched to me.

Carine hung back a little, and she smiled at me over Earnest's shoulder. "Thank you, Beau," she said softly. "It seems we are in your debt."

I shook my head, trying to deny it, but the action only made my head spin. It seemed the lack of sleep was finally catching up with me—my entire body felt made of lead, and I staggered slightly, forcing Edythe to grip my arm tightly and hold me on my feet.

"I think we better get you home," said Earnest. He took one of my arms and and put it around his neck for support. Edythe was bent forward, my other arm around her back, her arm around mine. I was only vaguely aware as the pair of them hauled me through the airport, the soles of my shoes barely brushing the airport tiles. I assumed Jessamine and Archie were behind us, though I was too tired to look.

I was probably half asleep by the time we made it to the parking garage, but it woke me up some when I saw Royal and Eleanor standing there by a black sedan, waiting for us. I felt Edythe tense beside me.

"Be nice, Edythe," Earnest said in a low voice. "He feels terrible."

"Maybe he should," Edythe said coldly.

"Let him try to make up," said Earnest, in a lower voice still. "Please, Edythe. Carine and I will ride with Archie and Jessamine."

Edythe glared at Royal, and though I knew when we were next to his tall, powerful form would tower over us, at the moment his shoulders were slightly hunched, and he was looking unusually small.

"C'mon, Edythe," I mumbled. "Let's go." To be honest, I probably didn't want to get near Royal anymore than Edythe did; he had always kind of scared the crap out of me. But I hated the idea of there being any fighting among them now that they were finally all reunited, and I couldn't really blame Royal for everything that had happened. He hadn't known it would turn out like this.

Edythe sighed, the sound more like a growl, and took on my weight as Earnest let go, before towing me in the direction of the car.

Wordlessly Eleanor got in on the driver's side while Royal took shotgun, and a moment later Edythe was pulling me into the back. I knew my miraculous staving off sleep was at an end, and I leaned back against the seat, my eyelids sinking. I heard the car purr to life.

Royal cleared his throat. "Edythe," he muttered.

"I know," Edythe snapped, looking away. "Believe me, I know."

A moment's pause, then Royal said hesitantly in his deep voice, "...Beau?"

This was enough to briefly startle me awake again. In all the time I'd known him, I didn't think Royal had ever even said my name, let alone spoken directly to me. "Um, yeah?" I said nervously.

"I'm sorry," he said gruffly. "For everything. Thank you for saving my sister."

For a minute, I was too surprised to say anything. Then at last I mumbled, voice garbled with exhaustion, "No problem." Then, I couldn't help but add, "It's more my fault than yours. Extreme sports...are even more risky than you'd think."

Grinning, Eleanor leaned over to elbow Royal in the side. "Sounds like he's talking in his sleep. Doesn't count, does it?"

"M'wake," I slurred.

"Let him sleep," said Edythe, but her voice was a little gentler than before.

I listened to the quiet thrum of the engine, until I drifted off, and I wasn't aware again until the car door opened, and I felt a chilly breeze on my face. My arm was around a pair of small shoulders, and a hand was pressed against my chest to keep me upright. I staggered forward, though my eyes didn't seem to want to open. I was disoriented, not exactly sure where I was or where I was going. However, Charlie's familiar voice cut through the murk, and this time my eyelids came up a quarter of the way, until I saw a blurry figure coming toward us.

"Beau!" he shouted. "What's going on here? What's wrong with him?"

"It's a long story, Charlie," Edythe said soothingly as she helped me toward the house. "He's fine, he's just exhausted."

Charlie didn't answer, only I felt him get under my opposite arm, taking on my weight. "I've got him," he grunted, and there was an unusually sharp edge to his voice, like a threat.

Edythe gently pulled out from under my arm, but before she could completely slip away, I reached out blindly and grabbed her by the arm, holding on with everything I was.

Wordlessly, Charlie tried to pry my grip off, but I wasn't letting go.

"It's okay, Beau," Edythe said gently. She ran her fingers over mine, until at last my fingers slackened.

"It is definitely not okay," I heard Charlie mutter in a furious undertone.

"Don't go," I slurred, trying to close my cold, numb hands around her again. We hadn't had our talk yet. She couldn't go until I got all my questions answered.

Edythe leaned up and kissed me lightly on the cheek. At the same time she breathed into my ear so only I could hear, "See you soon, Beau."

My last memory was passing over the threshold into the house, before I sank into unconsciousness.

* * *

A/N: Well, this chapter was definitely a tough one. (I've been worried about it almost from the beginning. x3 It's so hard to get the flow right on conversations explaining characters' histories, especially since there wasn't really anything comparable in the original. But, it was important to get some of this background in somewhere, and this seemed the best place for it.)

Thanks so, so much for reading and for all your wonderful comments! I'm sorry this one took so long, hopefully the next one will be a bit faster. See you next time~ C:

8/8/16


	24. The Truth

A/N: Hey! I guess we're kind of reaching that point (which I knew we would eventually) where updates are coming slower...Part of that's been that I knew I'd want to spend some more time on these last few chapters (so that's been anticipated), and I've also had other work/projects that I wanted to give some attention. (And we had some friends visiting from out of town last week, which was fun, and I had to report for jury duty, which was not fun...although, since I didn't actually get selected, I guess I shouldn't complain too much. XD)

Thanks for staying with me, see you at the end!

* * *

Chapter 23: The Truth

I had the sense that I'd been asleep for a long time. All my limbs felt stiff as boards, and my back ached, like I hadn't moved at all in that time. Disjointed images flitted through my dazed head like a movie on fast forward—pieces of a vivid dream. A mix of darkness and light, monsters and angels, terror and joy.

I decided to keep my eyes shut a little longer. It had been a good dream overall, I decided. More than good. So good I didn't want to let it go.

However, I felt my mind sharpening, and I knew I'd be awake soon. I couldn't remember what day of the week it was, but probably something was waiting for me. Jules or school or work. This amazing dream was going to set me back a fair ways.

"Beau?" said a soft voice right beside me.

Before I had time to think it through, my eyes flew open and I turned to stare.

A familiar figure was there, sitting on the edge of my bed, leaning over me with some concern. For a moment, I couldn't think. I couldn't remember any hallucination quite this real, that captured her obscene perfection quite to this level of detail—the way her glittering bronze hair framed her pale face, the perfect shape of her lips, the deep purple bruises that hung beneath her eyes.

I closed my eyes again quickly, before I could fall into the temptation of just laying there, absorbing the vision until I convinced my already addled brain that it was real. The insanity had clearly escalated while I'd been out—which for myself, I didn't mind so much, but it wouldn't be fair to Charlie to have to deal with that. I had to get a grip.

"Beau?"

The angelic voice cut through my concentration again and my head spun. Trying to hold onto sanity or not, I couldn't keep my eyes closed.

The vision was still there, her exquisite features inches from mine, looking anxious.

Very real. Definitely the most real hallucination I'd had. I noticed her eyes were even flat black rather than the liquid gold of my usual fantasies, as though my brain was determined to maintain continuity with the rest of the dream—like it was determined to push me ever further into legitimate craziness.

For a minute, I let myself become utterly absorbed in the vision, simply staring up at her, watching with fascination as her brow furrowed further with anxiety. Maybe it was too late for me, maybe I was already too far gone—I felt a thrill at the thought.

However, I thought of Charlie again, and I forced my mind to work, to wind back through the long, vivid dream and try to figure out the last thing I could be sure had actually happened. There was the medieval castle full of vampires. Before that was the clock tower square, before that the stolen Porsche and unbearably long drive to Volterra. The plane ride to Italy, the phone call, Archie coming because he'd thought I'd drowned...

A shocked breath rushed from my lungs, and it hit me with the force of a wrecking ball— _drowning_. That was the last thing that I remembered. I'd jumped from the cliff, and I couldn't fight the current...

I stared at the vision Edythe with wide eyes, stunned. _Dead_ —that was it. I was dead. There had been no rescue—I had drowned, and now these realistic visions had been conjured up with what remained of my earthly memories as I transitioned over.

As the realization sunk in, the guilt crashed over me like a bucket of ice water.

 _I was dead._ And for what? A moment of irresponsible fun.

For a second, my head filled with an image of Charlie, standing cold and alone before a gravestone. How was he going to take this? And my mom...I could see her dissolving into hysterics, while Phil stood by, futilely trying to comfort her. And Jules...Jules.

My hands shook as I clenched them into fists. What a jerk I was. After all the danger I had faced, the countless times I had come within an inch of death and been pulled out of it, I'd gone and done it myself.

The vision Edythe—or maybe she was an angel with Edythe's face, here to guide me over, who knew—looked alarmed. In a blur of motion, she had half risen from where she sat, eyes wide, as she took in the sick horror on my face.

"Beau?" she said urgently. "What is it? What's wrong?"

I turned to stare at her, and I was sure my face was white as a sheet. My throat was tight, and I felt burning tears sting my eyes. I was happy to see her, of course, happy I could have this kind of vision before my spirit dissolved and was sucked into the ether, or whatever was going to happen now, but after what I had done, I knew I didn't deserve it.

I knew I had to say it—I had to confirm what I already knew.

"I'm dead, aren't I?" I whispered. My voice shook slightly.

Edythe's expression went from anxious to perplexed.

"No." She sounded too surprised to be gentle. "You are most definitely not. I would know if you were, trust me."

It was my turn to look confused. I slowly sat up, and turned my head for the first time, looking around. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw I was sitting on my own bed in my room. My eyes took in the familiar glowing clock on my nightstand, my desk with the outdated computer, my backpack hanging on my chair. And lastly, my window, which had been left open a crack.

I looked back to the vision Edythe, who had sunk back down to sit on the edge of my bed, though she stayed close. I frowned.

Edythe was studying my face, looking wary, as though I might possibly be rabid.

When I didn't speak, at last she said, "I have no idea what's going through your head right now, Beau Swan, and for once I think I probably don't want to know. Whatever you're thinking, you're not dead."

I stared at her for a moment longer, bewildered, trying to readjust my impression of reality.

"So..." I said slowly. "I'm in a medically induced coma?"

Edythe glared at me, as though I were trying to be funny on purpose. "No, you're not."

"Huh," I said thoughtfully, leaning back against my pillows. I looked around my own, familiar room again. "So..." My brain churned slowly, toward the last and final possibility. But it seemed so ridiculous.

I turned to give the outrageously beautiful phantom sitting next to my bed a suspicious look.

As though she could read my mind, she said fiercely, "You're not dead, Beau."

"I could still be asleep," I suggested. "I might still wake up."

Some of the irritation faded from her features, and she looked oddly sympathetic. "I'm afraid not. I'm sorry to say this isn't a nightmare—not one you'll be able to wake up from, anyway."

She gave a grim smile that was half a grimace. It wasn't her real smile, the one that showed her dimples and had the power to stop traffic, but all the same, I felt my heart sputter slightly.

I realized then it was pointless, trying to pretend to myself this wasn't really happening to keep my mind safe from the possibility of crippling disappointment. If I wasn't dead, then the only other option was that it was a dream—but if it was a dream, it was way too real to be fair to expect me to realize it. Might as well live it up now.

"So," I said casually, settling back. "I'm not dead? Or hallucinating?"

Edythe frowned at me. "No."

I considered. "So, all that happened," I said thoughtfully. "Everything."

"Everything," Edythe confirmed, then hesitated. "That is, we did go to Italy and were nearly executed by strict, totalitarian vampires, if that's what you're remembering."

"Italy," I repeated. "Huh. Wow. I don't think I've been further east than Albuquerque."

I sat forward from the pillows and turned fully to face her again. "What time is it? How long was I out?"

Edythe shrugged. "About one in the morning, local time. So about fourteen hours."

I stretched and rubbed my arms, trying to work out the stiffness. "What about Charlie?" I asked.

"Asleep." She smiled a little again, and she added, "If he was aware I was here now, I think he might be inclined to set the station dogs on me."

This was enough to distract me. "He wasn't rude to you, was he?" I asked anxiously.

Edythe's smile widened. "Oh, not particularly." She added, "Not aloud, anyway." Edythe's tone was amused, but I didn't miss the real pain that flickered in her eyes. Her eyes dropped from mine, and she added softly, "If he was a little curt, I think it might have been more than warranted."

I frowned, wondering exactly what she meant by _curt_. I hadn't forgotten what Charlie had said to Archie a few days back—it felt like an age ago now—about Edythe, and his reaction at the very thought of her coming back. I would have to have a word with him about that when I got the chance.

I shook my head. "So what's our story?" I wanted to know. "I mean, for why I suddenly disappeared for...how long was it?"

"Three days." She leaned back, sighing again. "Archie called me earlier, and we put our heads together to put together a cover story. But...we didn't come up with anything."

"Great," I muttered. So much for genius vampires. However, I found I didn't really care at the moment. I could face Charlie's fury a whole lot easier than a nest full of bloodthirsty vampires, and even more, Edythe was here. That was all that mattered. Now that I had decided to accept for the time being that this wasn't a vision in the afterlife or a hallucination, the clock was suddenly once again ticking on how much time I had left with Edythe—I couldn't afford to waste a moment of it.

I pushed back the blankets that had been carefully tucked over me and shifted over, turning to put my feet on the floor so I could sit up next her. I reached over and took her hand, gripping it tightly as I met her eyes. It was time to start asking those questions I'd been storing up—and I could fool myself into thinking that, at least as long as I had questions, she would stay.

"So," I said, forcing a smile, "What have you been up to these last few months?"

Edythe's expression turned abruptly wary. "Nothing in particular. Nothing you would find interesting, anyway."

I felt something inside me contract very suddenly at her tone—like she wanted to shut me out. Or maybe this was a hallucination after all, and my subconscious had finally run out of imagination.

Edythe saw the shift in my expression, and her eyes turned worried again. She leaned in, gazing up into my face. "Beau?" she whispered.

I tried to rearrange my expression— _Don't waste time_ , I ordered myself.

"Try me," I said, making my voice light.

Edythe gazed up at me for a moment longer before she sighed. Her eyes flickered away, and she looked uncomfortable.

"Tracking," she admitted at last. "Or, more accurately, _trying_ to track. As it turns out, it's not a particular strength of mine. In fact, you might say I was an abysmal failure."

"Oh," I said, feeling like I was missing something. "Well, that sounds fun. What were you tracking?"

Edythe shifted uncomfortably. When she looked back at me, her eyes were deeply pained, apologetic. When she finally spoke, the words poured out in a rush.

"I'm sorry, Beau. So sorry—I just had no idea. I thought you would be safe here. Completely safe. If I had had the slightest idea that _Victor_ —" Her perfect mouth twisted over the name, as though she had tasted something vile— "would return here, seeking vengeance, I would have acted differently. I didn't see how closely tied Victor was to Joss—he was so certain of her skills, he never once feared for her safety, and that obscured the depth of his feelings."

Edythe bent forward, pressing a delicate hand to the side of her head as though suddenly faint. "But even worse than that—to think your sole protection was a pack of _werewolves._ Immature, volatile, essentially the most dangerous thing out there other than Victor himself—I feel ill whenever I think of it. I have to be the most wretched, contemptible—"

I put up a hand to stop her, and she broke off. However, her eyes were still deeply pained, haunted. I knew now was the time—I had to set her free. I couldn't keep her bound to me from that impossible sense of responsibility Carine had spoken of, from this misplaced sense of obligation.

"Look," I said, taking a deep breath and summoning up every bit of strength I could find. "Edythe." I felt a shiver down my spine as the name passed my lips. "You can't take responsibility for this—any of this. If I trip in front of a bus or something one day, you can't just go flying off to Italy again. Seriously. Even if I had been trying to take myself out jumping off that cliff, that would have been on me, not you."

I added, as gently as I could, "I mean, think of what you almost did, trying to—to atone for my death. What you almost did to Carine, Earnest, Archie—"

"Beau," Edythe said, cutting me off, staring at me with something like amazement, her lips pressed in a thin, angry line. "Beaufort M. Swan."

I didn't know how to respond to the look she was giving me. I muttered, "I thought you knew how I felt about the Beaufort thing."

Edythe ignored me.

"Beau," she said again. "Do you really think that I went to the Volturi and asked for death because I was— _trying to atone_?"

I blinked, startled at the intensity in her face. "Um...yes?"

She looked away, muttering what sounded like a curse under her breath.

Then Edythe turned back to me. Her eyes seemed to burn in the darkness and, very slowly, as though trying not to startle me, she raised a hand to my face. Gently, she caressed my cheek with her delicate fingers, and automatically I found myself raising my own hand and cup hers in mine. Her touch set my heart to pounding, even though I knew the memory of it would torture me later when this was over.

Her soft voice held just a hint of exasperation as she said, "Beau, I would have gone to Italy no matter what the case, whether your—your _death_ —" she nearly choked on the word—"was my doing or not. Clearly I should have been more careful, and not been so quick to take Royal's word for it. But I did try to check...and when she said Charlie was at the funeral, I didn't think for a moment that..."

She trailed off, staring off into space. She sighed, then added ruefully, "I suppose I can no longer criticize Romeo, after such a near fatal misunderstanding myself."

I frowned, trying to wrap my head around what she was saying. She still hadn't really explained herself. "Okay," I said slowly. "But why, then? Why does you thinking I'm dead equal going to the Volturi? You're not making any sense."

Edythe leaned very close, until our faces were barely inches apart.

"You're not listening, Beau," she said in her melodic voice, and I felt her breath on my face. Slightly dazed, I didn't answer.

Edythe sat back again, though her hand remained on mine. She ran a finger gently along the back, tracing each bone to my knuckles. "Beau," she said. "Don't you remember _anything_ I said to you before?"

I hesitated. "I remember. I remember everything. Right up to...to the last."

Edythe was smiling, but her eyes were still frustrated. "I told you, when we were watching that movie. And I told you before that, over and over—so many times even I can barely keep track. I told you that I love you, that you're everything to me. That a world without you has no meaning for me."

"Yeah, well," I mumbled. "I remember. But...I mean, that wasn't how it was. You realized that—it wasn't really love."

Edythe stared at me, and though her mouth was still smiling, her eyes were angry. She abruptly stood up from my bed, so fast she was a blur, and suddenly she was standing in front of me arms folded.

"All of us are good liars, Beau," she said suddenly, and her usually velvet voice was bitter, almost harsh. "Living how we live, vampires in a world of humans, we have to be." Her lips twisted. "But I've always had a particular aptitude for it."

I stared back at her, uncomprehending. The only thing that came to mind—was this a confession? Was she going to tell me now that there was never a time she'd considered me seriously? That she'd only told me she misunderstood her own feelings to let me down gently?

I hadn't imagined there was anything that could possibly make this conversation more painful than I knew it would be, but at this thought, something icy and sharp cut through me. My eyes dropped quickly to the bed, but not before I felt what little color remained drain from my face. I felt numb.

"Beau," Edythe snapped. "Look at me right now."

I blinked. My eyes flickered back up before I could stop them, and she was no longer smiling.

She turned away from me and began to pace the room, in rising agitation.

"Of course, I realized you wouldn't let go," she muttered, almost to herself. "The only way I could effectively remove myself from your life was if—if you believed that I didn't _actually_ love you, that it was over, utterly and completely. But how to convince you? I couldn't just come out and say it, you would never believe that, I thought."

As she moved, she reached up to press her fingers to the sides of her temple. "I had to set it up right. I had to be cold, distant for a little while, just to begin to instill in you the hint of doubt. Then I had to have the right words, the right story—something that would explain everything I had done, everything I had said, and cast it in a new light that might just begin to change your mind. Every inflection in my voice, every word I said, I had it calculated to perfection—cruel enough to leave you with no lingering doubts or suspicions, but not so cruel as to be out of character, that would permit you to suspect the truth that I knew to be so glaringly obvious."

Edythe continued to pace, speaking faster now, but still slow enough for me to catch every word. "Those three days I went through every possibility in my mind, everything you might demand, every argument you might level at me that could punch a hole right through the lie. I weaved my story tighter and tighter, going through every single conversation that you might remember, figuring out how I might twist it into something else to fit with what I needed you to believe. I was prepared to argue for hours, until you finally began to waiver, and at last were forced to accept it. And then, after all that, you—"

She spun to face me, and her flawless features were a mingle of anger and agony. "I told you my little story _one_ time, and without any further explanation, without any argument, you just stood there and accepted it. Just like _that_ —after I had already told you the truth a thousand times."

I didn't answer. I didn't think I could find my voice. I could only sit there, staring back at her in dumb surprise.

The anger faded from her face, and she gazed at me with an expression only of anguish now. "I deceived you, Beau, and I repent of that now—I hurt you, trying to save you from what I am, from our dark world, and it was a failure. I will never be able to apologize enough for the harm I've caused. In retrospect, I see it all too clearly now, the futility and folly of my actions. But what I still don't understand is—how. How you could be deceived so easily. I relived that moment—that far too short conversation—a thousand times in my mind, and I still don't understand it."

I stared down at my bed. I was still out of it. This really was probably a dream, I decided. One of those great, fantastical dreams that made you scream when you woke up and realized it wasn't real.

Edythe studied my face carefully, and the deep crease between her brows deepened further. She sucked in a breath, and it shook as she exhaled. "Won't you say something?" she whispered. "Please, Beau."

I shook my head. "I think maybe I shouldn't listen to this anymore. Because when I finally wake up, for a second I'll think this is all real, and then I'll have a breakdown or something. And I think I've put Charlie through enough."

Edythe suddenly grabbed my shoulders and gave me a hard shake. Her glorious face was an inch from mine, her black eyes again full of mingled frustration and despair.

"Why?" she demanded. "Why is it that no matter how many times I say it you won't believe me? Or else you think you're dreaming, or dead—I told you the truth over and over, and I'm telling you now, but one lie—and I know, Beau, it was a horrible lie—but even so, why do you believe that and nothing else? I'm right here, trying to repair the damage I've done, but—it's like I've come up against a wall, and I can't break through."

Her voice caught on the last word, and seeing the excruciating, trapped look in her eyes, I wanted to wrap my arms around her and tell her I believed her, just to ease her suffering.

I shook my head slowly. "The thing is, Edythe..." Once again, the sound of her name in my mouth sent a charge of excitement buzzing through my system, making the tips of my fingers tingle. "The thing about me being kind of like a special pet or something—I can see that. _That_ makes sense. You being in love with me—like you'd run off and kill yourself just because I didn't exist—that doesn't. I mean...look at me."

Edythe's hands were still on my shoulders, and again she leaned close to me, so close her face blocked out the light from the glowing alarm clock behind her. "I am looking at you, Beau," she said softly.

When I didn't reply, she murmured, "Please, Beau. Tell me what it will take to convince you. Tell me what I have to do. How many times I have to say it."

I stared into the perfection that was her face, taking in every detail. I forced myself to look away—how bad was it going to be when this fantasy came to an end? Because it would end, that much I was sure of. I couldn't let myself be completely destroyed, I had to keep my head above water, for Charlie, for Jules—the people who had stuck with me through everything. But I didn't see how I would be able to.

"Okay," I said slowly, trying to keep my head clear. "Let's say—hypothetically—all this is true. You love me. But how long before you leave again?"

"I won't leave," she said swiftly, holding my hand between hers. "I swear, Beau, I won't leave you ever again."

I winced at that, and put up a hand to stop her—before she could hammer any more nails in the coffin of my sanity.

Edythe stared down at me in mixed frustration and confusion. "Now, what's that reaction?" she demanded. However, a moment later she hesitated, and seemed to consider something.

Her eyes dropped briefly, before they rose back up again to meet mine. They were full of pain once again, but now I saw a look of resignation there, too.

"I..." she began slowly, haltingly. "If you've already moved on, Beau—and after everything I've done to you, that would be more than understandable—don't worry. I will only stay as long as you want me to. If you want me to go—I will. The very moment you ask it. Please believe me when I say all I want is for you to be happy."

She hadn't even finished speaking before my hand shot out automatically, my fingers closing around her forearm to hold there. I shook my head. I tried to think how to explain myself, before she could misinterpret any more of my reactions. Though my throat was tight and my voice shook, I forced myself to speak.

"Don't—Don't make me any promises, okay?" I said hoarsely. "Don't. Please, Edythe."

She just didn't get it. If I started hoping, and it all came to nothing—which it would, I was sure—I didn't know how I would make it through after. Hope was a dangerous thing—more dangerous than a room full of vampires by a long shot.

Edythe relaxed slightly, but she looked frustrated again. "You don't believe me when I say I won't leave? You think I'm lying?"

I stared back at her. I tried to drag my eyes away from her face, to remind myself of the true reality behind all these pleasant words, but I couldn't look away. I was fighting it with everything I was, but even so, I could feel it creeping insidiously in—this alien concept, that Edythe did love me after all, that everything she had said back then had just been a lie for my sake. I could feel everything I had known trying to flip inside out.

I shook my head. I had to hold on—before I gave in, and I was destroyed again.

"Maybe you believe it," I said slowly. "For now. But I know you can still change your mind. Any time. If you start thinking it's the right thing to do—say Jessamine has a go at me again—you'll leave, no matter what I say."

Edythe sighed deeply and turned, sinking back down to sit beside me again. She sat there for a long moment, staring straight ahead. "Do you still love me, Beau?" she asked suddenly. "Even after what I did?"

It was a bit of a pointless question in my opinion. If someone's feelings were in doubt in this room, it definitely wasn't mine. But Edythe looked up at me with wide, apprehensive eyes, and I felt compelled to answer.

"You know I do," I said quietly. "I never stopped."

Edythe reached up, gently cradling my face in her hands.

"Then that's all I need to know," she said softly. "As long as that's true, I'll be here. I love you, Beau, and I won't ever leave again, not unless you ask me to. And I will convince you of that truth, day by day, a little bit at a time."

She exhaled, and the scent of her breath made me dizzy. She leaned in close, and I knew what she was planning to do.

I stiffened. My eyes dropped to the floor.

Edythe paused, her glorious features less than an inch from mine. "What?" she said, her brows pulling together. "What now?"

"Well..." I began, eyes still focused hard on the wood-grain. "Well, this will just make it that much worse. When I wake up, I mean."

Edythe's eyes narrowed. "You're not dreaming, Beau," she hissed.

"Okay then," I said. "When you leave again."

Edythe sighed. "You really are impossible," she muttered. Then she added, eyes wide with worry, "But you really do love me?"

My eyes rose back to hers. "I just said I did," I said. I added, voice low with emotion, "And that's never going to change."

Edythe stared back at me for a long moment, then her mouth turned up in a brilliant smile that showed her dimples. "I believe you. Now I just need to make you believe me."

In spite of my resistance, she didn't let go of me, and she suddenly leaned in close, her nose brushing mine. "This is for your own good, Beau," she breathed, and then she pressed her lips to mine.

It was different than most of those times I remembered. Her careful, cool restraint was absent, and though her hands and lips were cold as ever and hard as marble, my skin seemed to burn where she touched me. Her arms were around my neck and she held me to her. I couldn't have fought her if I wanted to—and I didn't want to. I suddenly didn't care if this would make it hurt worse when I woke up, or when she left or however else this fantasy ended—it was worth it. I loved her more than I had ever loved anything, and in this moment, I could feel like she loved me, too.

When she pulled away, I was breathing hard, and I felt her press her head against my chest, her ear against my pounding heart.

"Ah," she sighed, her eyes sliding closed. "Beautiful." She pulled away from me to stare up into my face for a long moment. Then she turned, sitting back with her hands resting in her lap.

"Okay," she said. "Somehow, I think you still don't quite believe me—which, you have no idea how painful that is—but I vow, I _will_ convince you eventually. No matter how long it takes."

Her mouth was spread in that dazzling smile that always made my head spin, and as always, I could only stare at her like an idiot. Yes, things were getting dangerous now. I had to keep my head, or I would lose myself. It was all right for Edythe to believe what she was saying, but I had a shattered life I would have to get back to once the dream was over.

I shook my head, and tried to think of something to say to distract myself.

"Anyway," I said. "These past few months. You never did tell me exactly what you were tracking. New prey?" I found myself picturing big, exotic predators all around the world. Jaguars, tigers, big African lions. I smiled a little at the thought, then added, "What else did you do? You said there were plenty of distractions out there."

Edythe looked slightly exasperated. "Beau, I told you, everything I said before I left was a lie. There was nothing that could distract me from thoughts of you, and I knew there wouldn't be. As soon as we left, I separated myself from the others—I couldn't bear listening to their thoughts—and I went out deep into the wilderness to be alone. There I did absolutely nothing, but exist in a state of both physical and mental paralysis."

Edythe's tone as she spoke about her months of suffering was scathing, derisive, and I could tell she wasn't looking for sympathy. But even so, the thought of Edythe so miserable made me sick. Edythe's description of that time sounded eerily familiar—it sounded a lot like me. It would have been exactly like me, if I hadn't had to keep myself going for my dad. The thought of Edythe experiencing anything remotely like that made my blood run cold.

Edythe continued, "Only when I felt my will begin to weaken—when in the midst of my deepest torment I began entertaining treacherous thoughts of returning, of coming to your window and begging you to take me back—did I take on the notion of trying my hand at tracking. I knew I could never be distracted, but I hoped having an occupation would help me maintain my resolve."

The picture of Edythe, sitting alone in the woods with her head bowed, still as a statue while inner demons ate her from the inside out, lingered in the back of my head, and I had to try to distract myself.

"What were you tracking?" I asked again.

Edythe hesitated. A shadow passed across her features, and she seemed to stare at something I couldn't see. She murmured in a low voice, "I would have done so earlier...should have done so earlier. If I had not been so immobilized with the grief of separation—but eventually it did finally come to me, if there was one thing that I ought to do in my present state of uselessness, it was surely that."

She seemed to be talking more to herself than to me, and I opened my mouth to point out that she still hadn't answered the question. But as I looked into Edythe's face, I froze. Edythe's expression had darkened in a look so feral that for a moment she really didn't look human. Her lips were curled back from her teeth, her onyx eyes burning with hate.

"What?" I whispered, and my voice cracked with the strain.

Edythe's eyes refocused on me, and she seemed to calm slightly, though I noticed the tendons on her wrist stood out as the hand not holding mine clenched at her side.

She said one word, spitting it out like a curse. " _Victor_."

A chill went down my spine. I remembered all my horrible anxiety when Jules and the others had been out hunting Victor, and for a moment, the imagined images from that time changed to Edythe.

Something icy plunged into my stomach.

Edythe continued dispassionately, "After we took care of Joss, I always had it in my mind that I would also eventually dispense with the mate as well, as soon as I had the opportunity. He helped her, after all, and that could not be forgiven. However, as chasing Victor would have necessarily taken me away from you, I thought for a time that perhaps I _might_ let him go after all, at least so long as he kept away. But now..."

Once again, Edythe's smooth features twisted and her eyes burned with such fury I had to fight a shudder that rippled down my spine. "Now," she breathed, softly, almost gently, "he will die."

I finally came out of my stunned daze, and panic seized me. Before I even thought what I was doing, I reached out and clamped a hand around her arm again, holding her in place. In spite of the frigid cold of her skin, I felt sweat on my palm.

"No," I said, more loudly than I meant to.

Edythe seemed momentarily startled out of her cold anger, and she glanced at me, surprised. "No?" she repeated, looking confused.

I swallowed and shook my head. When I spoke, I tried to keep my voice calm, reasonable. "You said you weren't going to leave," I pointed out. "I don't see a lot of room in that for you suddenly setting off on another extended tracking expedition."

Edythe hesitated. "Well, yes," she admitted. "But—"

I talked over her, cutting her off, "You've been trying to convince me you're staying right here, and now you're already talking about leaving." I tried to look accusing, rather than terrified.

Edythe looked a little stricken by this, and her eyes dropped briefly. "I am staying," she muttered. "But Victor is going to die—and soon."

I couldn't tell for sure if this meant I had won the argument or not. Chills were still shooting up and down my spine, and I couldn't get the image of Edythe facing off against Victor, flaming hair wild, face contorted in a wild snarl, out of my mind.

"Look," I said, once again doing my best to make my tone reasonable. "We don't know if he's even still around. Maybe he's given up and gone back to whatever he was doing. Jules and the rest of the wolves might have run him off for good. I don't think we need to go looking for him—we've got bigger problems."

Edythe's eyes narrowed slightly, and she looked torn. However, she sighed and shook her head. "I won't leave as long as you want me here, Beau," she conceded. She paused, then added, "But you are right, that _is_ another problem. It appears that, in our absence, we've developed something of a wild dog problem."

Edythe's tone was conversational, polite, but I thought I detected just a hint of contempt below the surface as she said the words _wild dog_.

I shook my head. "No, I meant the Volturi."

Edythe turned to look up at me.

I continued, "They're going to come for me sometime. To make sure I've been changed. What did Sulpicia say? She said we could wait until I graduated, to keep from arousing suspicion. That's coming up faster than you think. If we're going to have everything in order by then, we've got to start making our plans now."

Edythe smiled, without great concern. "I still think the dogs are the bigger problem."

I didn't see how she could be so relaxed. "You heard what Sulpicia said," I insisted. "If they think you aren't following the rules, they could execute us both. In fact, she said she would execute everyone, if they tried to support us."

Edythe eyed me for a moment, and she seemed to be carefully weighing what she was about to say.

"Sulpicia and the other two are thousands of years old," she said finally. "Time means something different to them than it does to you, or even me. They count years the way you count days. You could be thirty before you even cross her mind again."

I stared at her, horrified. "You're going to wait until I'm _thirty_ —" I began, outraged.

"Even longer than that, if I can manage it," she said cheerfully.

I glowered into her smiling face. "You're just saying that," I accused. Sulpicia hadn't struck me as the type to forget promises made to her, no matter how old she was.

Edythe shrugged, still smiling. "Well, it doesn't really matter anyway," she said airily. "I have some ideas on how to evade Sulpicia, if it comes down to that. Archie will see her coming a thousand miles away."

I shook my head slowly, and I felt some of the pain that had receded for the time being flare up again in my chest. I glared at her, though I couldn't quite disguise the hurt. "You really don't want me around forever, do you?" I said quietly.

Edythe glanced back at me, and though she looked concerned again, her expression was set. "Not if it means taking your soul."

I studied her for a long moment, trying to read her. She had told me everything she said before she left was a lie, which would include what she had said about how she would be bored by me if I ever became immortal. However, I couldn't help but wonder—weren't the best lies usually based in truth?

I shook the thought off, for the moment. "I'm going to die eventually," I said at last. "Even if your plans work, and the Volturi don't get me. I'm getting closer every day."

Edythe nodded. "And once we get to that point, I'll follow right after you."

I shook my head. "That is just so...twisted. Sick."

Edythe nodded again, indulgent. "I can accept that you think that."

I stared at her for a long minute, and as I read her expression, it quickly became obvious she was not going to change her mind. Whatever the real reason Edythe didn't want me becoming like her, I realized it didn't matter. There was only one way I was going to have a chance to be with her forever, or have the ability to follow her if she ever did leave again—and that wasn't by staying human.

Sighing, I pushed myself up from the bed. I fumbled in the dark for a minute for my shoes, and when my hand finally hit on one, I quickly yanked them on and set to work doing up the laces.

Edythe blinked, startled. "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"Your house," I said shortly.

Her eyes narrowed. "And why would you want to go there, may I ask?"

"Well," I said lightly, using my fingers to try to tease my hair into a marginally presentable state, "if you're going to bring the might of the Volturi down on the whole family just for the dumb reason of keeping me human—I think the rest of them should have a say, don't you? I say we put it to a vote."

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A/N: I spent quite a bit of extra time on this chapter, I think it needed it. (Some tougher bits needed some extra attention. And next chapter's another one that will probably need quite a bit of additional work, too...)

Thank you all so, so much for reading, and for all your wonderful comments. C: It's hard to believe we're so close to the end now—just two more, and then we'll be moving on to Eclipse. If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time!

Posted 9/13/16


	25. Vote

A/N: In spite of the many distractions over the past couple of weeks (Skip Beat, Avatar the Last Airbender, the projects on MangaStudio calling to be worked on...), I managed to put this one out in a reasonable time frame.

There are a few deviations this chapter from the original—one in particular I'm thinking of. However, strange as it might seem, it actually won't affect the plot of Eclipse Reimagined all that much.

Thanks so much for reading so far, and for all your comments! See you at the end! :J

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Chapter 24: Vote

Edythe and I argued, of course. She pointed out that if I went down to my truck this early in the morning, Charlie would wake up. I knew she was right, but I wasn't going to let that stop me. I was probably grounded until I was at least thirty-five anyway.

In the end, Edythe agreed to give me a ride over, just to spare Charlie the potential aneurism. As always, as I climbed onto her back and she held my legs clamped to her sides, I felt like an overgrown gorilla, but weirdly it also felt right, too. Natural, like I'd done it a thousand times. My hair whipped back from my scalp and the cold early morning air stung my eyes, but I didn't close them. Strangely, compared to the bright, terrifying light of the clock tower plaza in Volterra, the darkness felt like an old friend.

I laughed a little. Once upon a time I'd had to close my eyes, or the ride would have made me sick. Now I just enjoyed the rush. This was a hundred times better than the motorcycle.

"Finally believe you're awake now?" Edythe said with a smile.

"More like I've just given up being careful," I said. "I've decided I might as well live dangerously. A coward dies a thousand deaths and all that."

Edythe had slowed to a walk and I heard the babble of a nearby stream—we were close to the house now. Edythe let me down so I could walk, and she turned to give me look. "Not thinking about _more_ extreme sports, I hope?" she said, eyes narrowed.

I shook my head. "No, not that kind of living dangerously. More like the emotional kind."

Edythe sighed. "I can't believe I actually missed that. Those cryptic remarks designed to divest me of my sanity."

I hesitated, not entirely sure if this was a comment I wanted to explain, but at Edythe's frustrated expression, I gave in.

"Look," I said. "It's not that I don't want to believe you when you say...when you say you love me. And that you were lying to me because you were trying to help me, and that you're going to stay now as long as I want. I think a part of me already does believe you. But...every day when I look in the mirror, I just see a boring, ordinary guy. Like I said, I just don't see a logical reason for you to want to be with me, for you to put up with everything you've had to put up with to be around me. And—well—"

I was getting flustered, choked up, and my gaze broke away from hers. I felt the ugly splotches of red climbing up my neck, reaching up my face.

"I mean...when you were gone...I didn't know what to do. I was underwater. Everything was gray, and I knew I had no hope of ever having the only thing I ever wanted. I was stuck in limbo, couldn't go back, couldn't go forward. The only way I could keep going...keep functioning...I just had to be careful. Keep my mental defenses up. I'd already been broken once, and I just couldn't let myself experience that again."

Edythe studied my face for a long moment. "I really did a number on you, didn't I, Beau," she said quietly.

"You were trying to save me," I said, shaking my head. "Maybe it would have worked on a normal person."

"I hurt you," she said softly. "I keep demanding to know why you won't believe me, but of course you don't believe me. I know you, Beau, I know you never have seen yourself clearly. That you can't see what I see when I look at you. Your belief in how I felt was tenuous from the very beginning, fragile, and instead of reinforcing the truth, building it up, I betrayed you, shattered the trust that you were only beginning to feel. You're right, Beau—it is dangerous to trust. And even more, to trust someone who brutally betrayed you, mutilated the heart that you entrusted to them."

Edythe's beautiful face was contorted with agony, an agony more acute than even when she lay on the stone floor of the Volturi's lair, being tortured by Jonathan.

"You trusted me before," she whispered. "And I failed you. I see it clearly now—I wanted so badly to save you, for you to be happy. I wanted to love you the best I could—and perhaps that is where I went wrong. Perhaps I thought if I sacrificed what I wanted for your own good, then that would prove my love was not of the ugly, selfish kind—the kind that drew you into our world, regardless of the danger. I wanted my love to be strong enough that I could be selfless, so that I could deny myself everything, so long as it was better for you. But I was so eager to sacrifice myself I was blind—blind to the fact that I was acting in the most selfish way of all, lying to you, betraying you, in order that I could make myself a martyr."

I knew that vampires couldn't cry. But Edythe choked as she said, "I'm so sorry, Beau. So sorry. I—I wanted you to be happy. So much. I would have given up anything for that. But—in the end I—all I did was strike a deeper wound than you'd ever experienced. I made you suffer more than anyone ever made you suffer before. I can't ask you to believe me. I can't ask you to trust me again. I can never ask for forgiveness."

Edythe was bent double, her arms wrapped around herself. Her despair was so complete that I was paralyzed. I had seen Edythe upset before. I had seen her in a panic, terrified, I had seen her angry, and in a fog of self-reproach. But this kind of outpouring of raw emotion, like water bursting from a broken dam, regret so powerful it was crippling just to watch, I had never seen from Edythe. She was always the picture of perfect poise, of ultimate self-control. Now she seemed almost overcome.

Before I really knew what I was doing, I felt my arms wrap around her. I pulled her toward me, and though I knew I couldn't have moved her if she had resisted, she let me, letting me put a gentle hand against the back of her head, and press her face against my shoulder.

I bent my head, and whispered in her ear, "I believe you."

Edythe made an odd sound, halfway between a sob and a laugh. Her voice had some of the old certainty and strength, though it shook a little as she said, "No you don't. You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"I mean it," I said again, softly, and my voice shook with emotion. "You were right. Maybe what you said before, about how I believed you way too quickly, is true."

I paused, trying to work through the new thoughts that seemed to be blooming to life in my head. I felt something shift—it was as though a part of my mind had been engulfed in a deep fog for a long time, and now the fog was lifting. Edythe was right—I hadn't seen myself clearly, but it wasn't in the way she meant. I understood myself for the first time, and now that I did, I could finally see Edythe clearly, too.

I pulled back to look Edythe in the face, and she was gazing up at me, her beautiful face still twisted with agony. Now she was the one who didn't believe me. I almost smiled at the irony.

"You always want to know what I'm thinking," I said quietly. "So I'll tell you."

Edythe was quiet. She had gone perfectly still, her coal black eyes riveted to my face.

I pointed to my skull, tapping my temple. "You know this thing about my brain? This thing that keeps you out—mental shell, defense, whatever it is?"

Edythe hesitated, then nodded once, stiffly, carefully.

"Well," I said, "I think I have two. There's the one that keeps out your mind powers, keeps my head safe, and then there's the other one. The one that was around my heart, I guess you could say. That's the one that's kept me from completely believing you—ever, even before you left."

Edythe's eyes didn't move from my face. At last she said in a low whisper, "I'm not following you."

I shook my head. "I've always kept my defenses up. Kept people out. Never any crushes or close friends...That was how I was, how I wanted it. Things were easier that way, I never had to risk getting hurt. I always had my guard up—until I came to Forks and met you. That first time I admitted to myself how I felt about you—that was a huge step for me."

Edythe flinched slightly as though she had been struck.

I pushed on, "But I think I had another defense up that never did go down, even then. Because I was just too afraid of being disappointed."

I looked down into her face, and I gently placed my hands on her shoulders. "I accepted how I felt about you, but letting myself think you might feel the same way, too—trusting that it would really be as permanent as I knew it was for me—I just couldn't do that. That was one risk too far. I always thought that I didn't really fully accept it all the way because I knew I could never be good enough for someone like you, and that's true, but—"

Edythe opened her mouth to protest, but I continued quickly, firmly, "—but when it comes down to it, I think I was just afraid. I think all the time it was just another defense, some survival instinct to keep at least some part of me safe, or what my instincts thought was safe."

Edythe gazed up at me, her expression impossible to interpret. The pain was still there in the lines of her flawless face, the twisting guilt, but now I thought I saw in the depths of her dark eyes just the barest flicker of hope, too.

Carefully, I shifted my hand, from her shoulder to cup her face. "I don't want you to blame yourself," I said quietly. "I don't blame you for anything, and I never did—you were doing what you thought was right. If you didn't love me, you had no choice but to leave, and now I know you left because you were trying to help me—I can only love you all the more for that. If anything, I brought it on myself—I was so busy protecting myself, keeping myself safe, I couldn't see what you were doing. You're right—I should have seen right through you then, I should have understood. I didn't, I just went ahead and believed what I was already half expecting to hear."

I hesitated, and when I spoke again, my voice was steady. "But I'm going to do better now," I said. "I can't make myself think I'm good enough for you, because I'm not, but I know, against all the odds, you do love me. I'll never second-guess you again."

Edythe was gazing up at me. She slowly lifted a hand, putting her delicate fingers to my cheek. She gave a laugh, a laugh that was at once both happy and hopeless.

"What am I going to do with you?" she murmured. "Brought it on yourself indeed—what have you done, Beau? Except for accept me, even being the monster I am, never wavering, showing nothing but love and understanding...What have you done, except stay by my side with absolute loyalty when anyone else would have fled long ago, and when I have done absolutely nothing for you but torture you and place you and those you love in danger?"

I shook my head. She always had such a warped view of things. However, it seemed pointless to try to argue, so I only said, "You're not thinking of leaving again, I hope." I tried to give her what I hoped was a stern look.

Edythe smiled ruefully. "No. Leaving would have been the right thing in the beginning, but I see clearly now that it is too late. And like the self-serving beast that I am, I am unpardonably happy for that."

"Good," I said. "Glad we've got that straightened out."

Once again, I slid an arm around her waist, and pulled her to my chest. She moved willingly, and I felt her chin rest on my shoulder, her cold cheek pressing against mine.

"Oh, Beau," she sighed into my ear. "That boundless kindness—you are so much kinder than someone like me could ever deserve. Even after seeing what I'm capable of, you still don't see me for the monster that I am. And selfish as I am, I am grateful for the reprieve. But I think you will see the real me, someday...And when that day comes, my hope for you is that you will feel free to choose, unfettered by any sense of obligation."

I pulled back to look her in the face again. Her eyes were once again that strange mix of guilt and relief, of sadness and joy. I leaned forward, until our foreheads were pressed together, so close I could see the reflection of the dark morning sky in the black mirror of her eyes.

"And you always say I'm the one who doesn't see myself clearly," I said with a bit of a smile.

Edythe thought of herself as a monster—if only I could help her see herself as I saw her, as Carine saw her. I had never met anyone so good, so giving. I had never met anyone capable of such love, such sacrifice.

The cloud that had been continuing to hang over Edythe's brow at last lifted, for the moment. Once again I reached up to carefully cradle her face in my hand, and she reached up automatically to place her icy hand over mine, holding it there. She gazed up at me, and as I saw her face, for a moment I thought she was glowing in the morning gloom, radiant. As though she really was an angel.

"Beau," she murmured, and her face was alight with such love and joy that I felt my pulse thrum in my fingertips.

"Edythe," I whispered. Then I leaned down slowly, and pressed my lips to hers.

It wasn't like the kiss in my room—half desperate, on Edythe's side tinted with frustration, on mine, like it might be the last kiss we ever had. Instead, it was gentle, and it seemed to communicate a thousand thoughts and feelings.

When I pulled back, I was grinning like an idiot, and Edythe stared back at me with eyes that sparkled like liquid onyx.

"Shall we?" Edythe murmured, extending a hand for me to take. I did, entwining my fingers with hers, and we turned in the direction of the house. I was nearly skipping, my heart felt so full and light, and I laughed aloud like a kid.

"So," I said conversationally, "now that you're back. Are you going to give me back my stuff?"

Edythe looked embarrassed. "It's still there. I hid it all—the CD, the pictures, the tickets—under your floorboards. I swore to myself I would give you peace without reminders, but...some childish part of me won out."

I smiled hugely at that. "Wow," I said. "Awesome."

Edythe's returning smile was brilliant.

We were almost to the door of her house before I suddenly remembered why we were there.

Edythe commented lightly, "By the way, I'm only humoring you in all this, you know. It doesn't matter what they say. I won't allow you to sacrifice anything more for me than you already have. Not your life as a human, not your relationships with your family—and not your soul."

"It's my choice," I said. "Those are my sacrifices to make or not. But now it's not just me—every single one of them could be affected now, too. They should have a say."

Edythe shrugged her shoulders, indifferent.

Edythe led me through the front door into the dark house, then flipped the light switch. Strangely, the room didn't look one iota different from how it had been the last time I had seen it months ago, the piano still in its place, as was the white couches and massive pale staircase. No dust, no white sheets, as I might have imagined. Things were back to exactly as they had been, though it had been so long since I'd laid eyes on them I looked at them with more fondness than I ever had.

Edythe spoke in an even voice. "Carine? Earnest? Royal? Eleanor? Jessamine? Archie?" She didn't raise her voice, but I knew they would hear anyway.

I turned to see Carine already standing beside me, as though she had been there all along. She smiled. "It's good to see you back, Beau," she said. "Though I imagine, being here at this hour, this is more than a social call."

I nodded. "Yeah. I sort of need to talk to everyone at once, if that's okay."

Edythe was frowning slightly, but she looked resigned.

"Very well," said Carine. "Of course. Why don't we go sit down in the other room?"

Carine led the way through the bright living room, around the corner to the dining room. Of course the walls were white, and the ceiling was high, just like in the living room. Under a low-hanging chandelier sat a large, oval table surrounded by eight chairs. Carine took up one of the chairs, and gestured me with a smile toward the chair next to her, at the head of the table.

I wondered just how many times the Cullens had actually used this table. Not many, I would have guessed, as they didn't eat in the house. Maybe they just used it for family meetings like this.

By the time I reached the chair and pulled it out to take my place, I lifted my eyes to see the others all filing in after Earnest, who was leading the way. Edythe took up the chair immediately to my left, and soon the others filed in until everyone was there. Archie was grinning broadly at me, and I saw him give me a surreptitious thumbs up. No doubt he already knew what this meeting was about. Eleanor and Jessamine looked curious, while Royal was eying me with an expression I almost didn't recognize on him—namely, an expression that was not a glare. I knew from watching him that the fairly neutral expression he had as he regarded me now he usually reserved only for his fellow family members.

Carine had folded her hands on the table, linking her fingers, and she turned to give me her full attention. "Very well then, Beau. Please tell us what you have to say."

I looked out over the table at the seven pairs of eyes staring back at me, and I suddenly felt unaccountably nervous. I cleared my throat, and then, before I had time to second-guess myself, plunged right in.

"Okay," I began. "So, this is it. Archie's probably told you all everything that happened in Volterra, right?"

There were a few scattered nods around the table, and Archie spoke up, "Yeah, they all know. Everything."

"Good. Okay." I drew a deep, silent breath. "So here's the thing. Archie promised the Volturi that I would become one of you. Sulpicia said we could wait until after I graduate high school, but after that, by your laws, I'm supposed to be changed—and if I'm not, there's a good chance Sulpicia will hold all of you responsible for abetting a crime."

I went on before anyone could interrupt. "I think I've made it pretty clear what I'd want if it was up to me. And I think you all know what Edythe thinks, too. But I don't want anyone to feel forced into anything. Archie said he'd be willing to change me, but I don't want that if it's not what you all want. You've all made me feel welcome here from the start, but I get if it's a little much thinking about having me move in. As for the threat of the Volturi if I'm not changed—I'm not going to let anything happen to any of you if I can help it. Even if that means I end up having to go back to Italy and face my fate."

Edythe hissed, but I ignored her.

"So basically, I think the easiest and most fair thing to do here is put it to a vote. Whether you want me to become one of you or not."

I turned automatically toward Carine for her to begin, but before Carine could speak, Edythe interrupted. "Before the voting, I have something to add," she said, tone carefully polite.

I frowned distinctly, but I figured there was no point arguing. I nodded. "Go on, then."

She looked around the table, meeting the gaze of each of her family members in turn. "I think Beau may be somewhat overstating the danger," she said abruptly. "We don't need to be quite as concerned as all that."

She stood up from her chair and spread both hands on the tabletop. Her eyes glittered with sudden animation. "I gleaned quite a bit of useful information while we were there. And I think I might know a solution."

She leaned forward eagerly. "The main problem with eluding the Volturi for long is that they always seem to have a way of finding you, no matter how far you go—but it seems that's largely thanks to one of the guard, Cato. Sulpicia took a gift from a long-range tracker and gave it to him—a gift far stronger than Joss ever had. It works a bit like Archie's visions of the future—once he has seen someone, all he has to do is close his eyes and focus on that person, and he can _see_ through that person's eyes, their surroundings, and through their knowledge of where they are, get a precise location. That's what Sulpicia relies on for chasing down violators. However..."

Edythe grinned. "Considering Sulpicia's little tests, I have a feeling that should Cato ever try to track Beau down, he'll be disturbed to realize that he can't. Beau will be good as invisible to him. Archie can keep a watch on the Volturi, so if they decide to pay us a visit, then we can just take Beau away from here and keep him hidden."

Eleanor looked delighted with the plan. She pumped a fist. "Sounds like fun to me. I'm in."

I frowned very deeply at Edythe. Even if I didn't have my own reasons for not liking the plan—or any plan that left me as a helpless human—I was already seeing a half a dozen problems with it.

"But Cato will still be able to find you," I pointed out. "Or any of you."

Edythe was smug. "We'll take you some place safe. Then of course, even when Cato finds us he won't have anything to report back to Sulpicia. She can't do anything to us when there's no evidence."

I pushed again. "All Sulpicia will have to do is read your mind to find out where I am."

Edythe's lip curled. "Sulpicia and the other two ancient ones very rarely leave Volterra—only for real emergencies that are a threat to their reign, like putting down the rebellion half a century ago. Sulpicia isn't going to come all the way out here for you, Beau. On her list of priorities, I think it's fair to assume that you'll be pretty low."

She added, "Plus, Cato's gift relies on his target's own knowledge of where they are—so if they're lost, or aren't aware of exactly where they are, he won't be able to pinpoint them exactly. That's why he almost always works in conjunction with a short-range tracker of some kind, to compensate for his blind spots. Sulpicia uses Tacita for more critical operations—Sulpicia found a very powerful, precise tracking for her, which never fails over short distances—but Sulpicia doesn't usually like to spare Tacita if she can avoid it, so most often Cato works with one of the less experienced trackers. Knowing that, combined with the fact Archie and I will always be able to see them coming—I think we can ensure Cato and his team would be in for a very long chase. If Sulpicia even felt the need to dispatch Cato at all for such a minor reason, which she may very well not."

There was some muttering around the table, and it was pretty easy to see who thought what of these plans. Royal was glowering in Edythe's direction, and Archie was rolling his eyes. Jessamine looked skeptical, but intrigued, and Eleanor looked positively delighted at the prospect of being pitted against Volturi guards. Earnest was frowning at Edythe as though he'd like to have her grounded.

I straightened in my seat, coughing to try to regain attention and control of my meeting.

"Okay, Edythe has put forward another alternative to consider," I said stiffly. "If that's all, then let's vote."

I looked to Edythe first this time; I wanted to get her opinion out of the way. "Do you want me in?"

Edythe looked back at me with eyes solid black and unyielding as granite. "Not like that. You are going to remain human, Beau."

I nodded once, keeping my face stoic and even, then moved on.

"Archie?"

He grinned. "Definite yes, man."

"Jessamine?"

Jessamine smiled at me a little tentatively. "Yes," she said quietly. I felt the tiniest hint of relief—Jessamine's vote was one I hadn't been sure of. However, I didn't let it show and continued on.

"Royal?"

Royal's eyes dropped to the table, and his brow clouded as he considered. At last he said in a low voice, "No."

I kept my face blank and turned my head to move on, but Royal coughed and, eyes still on the table, he growled, "Hold on, let me explain."

My eyes went mutely back to him.

"I don't have a problem with you joining us," he said abruptly. "But this isn't the kind of life I would have picked out for myself if I had the choice. If I were in your shoes, I'd want someone to vote no for me."

I nodded slowly, then turned to Eleanor next.

"Full on yeah!" said Eleanor, grinning fiercely. "We can find another way to play games with that Cato."

I was glad, but I tried not to wince too much at that last bit as I turned next to Earnest.

He was already nodding. "Of course, Beau. Far as I'm concerned, you're already a part of this family."

I nodded, smiling a little, but as I turned last to Carine, I felt suddenly nervous. Even though this was supposed to be a vote, I realized that this was the one that really mattered. I had a feeling that whatever she said, the majority wouldn't make a difference.

Carine's eyes weren't on me.

"Edythe?" she said softly.

"No," Edythe snapped. Her fists were clenched on the table, and her lips were curled back from her teeth.

"You must see at this point, it's the only way that makes sense," Carine said quietly. "You've chosen not to live without him—that doesn't leave me a choice."

Edythe sat rigid in her seat for a minute, her jaw clenched. Then she abruptly shoved back from the table and stalked wordlessly from the room.

"I suppose you know my vote," Carine said with a sigh.

I was staring after Edythe, and I heard Archie snort.

"Don't worry about her," he said bracingly. "She'll calm down." He added in a mutter, "Though unfortunately not before she destroys half the furniture."

I winced as I heard an earsplitting crash from the other room, and I forced myself to refocus my attention on the rest of those there. I drew a deep breath, then said, "Well, I guess that's it then. Thanks—all of you. This means more than I can say."

My voice came out a little more raw and emotional than I meant, and I cleared my throat. "So. Now that that's decided, I guess we need to start coming up with a plan. Our absolute deadline is after graduation, but with Victor running around, I think we should do it long before that. I don't like being a liability and putting you all in danger, or Charlie, either." My eyes flickered across the table. "Archie, man? I'm ready whenever you are."

Archie looked a touch alarmed at being called on so soon, and he opened his mouth. However, before he could say anything, his gaze shifted slightly to my left.

I turned to see Edythe had rematerialized beside me, her black eyes narrowed to slits, her normally smooth features tense with fury. I shrank back slightly.

She leaned forward, so her face was barely an inch from mine. "Abnormal," she hissed with venom. "Absolutely, obscenely abnormal, a glutton for punishment, mentally unsound—"

Edythe could be intimidating when she got like this, but I pressed my mouth into a solid line and did my best to glare back.

"If you have something to say, you can address the entire assembly," I said.

Edythe glared at me a second longer, then turned slowly to face the rest of the room. "This is ridiculous. I think after graduation is the absolute _earliest_ we should even be contemplating this, and I don't think this is so urgent that even that soon will be strictly necessary. For the sake of remaining inconspicuous—which Sulpicia herself fully supported—I think it's better that this conversation is put off at least until Beau finishes high school and moves out of Charlie's house. And I think we can all agree that would be the best thing for Charlie, too."

"Unless he gets eaten by a vampire who's after me," I inserted.

Edythe sneered with derision. " _Victor_ ," she spat. "He doesn't have a prayer of even getting close now, not with all of us back here, and he'll know it. And we'll keep Charlie safe, too. Tell me, what's going to be harder on your father—a nonexistent threat from a vampire outnumbered seven to one, or waking up after he's finally gotten his son back, days after one of his closest friends passed away, to find he's gone again?"

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to hurt my dad even more when he was already down. It would be better if I could make the transition as easy on him as I could. Even though it was hard to contemplate waiting until graduation when I couldn't help but think Edythe might be able to use the time to try to get Carine or the others to change their vote, or I might get hit by a bus, maybe she had a point.

I turned my head back to meet Archie's gaze. "After graduation, then?" I said. "Right after?"

Archie fidgeted. "Yeah, sure. Although, to be honest...I'm not actually sure how to do it without killing you."

I frowned. "Hey, you swore—"

"Yeah, I know," he said quickly. "I'll do it." However, he still looked uncertain.

I looked around the table, at each of them gazing back at me. I suddenly remembered something, and my eyes came to rest on Carine.

"Hey," I said. "What about you, Carine? You've done this before, haven't you?"

Carine surveyed me with an expression that was hard to interpret. She had clearly voted yes for me, but I noticed a conflict in her eyes.

"Yes," she said evenly. "I am able to do it. You would be in no danger of my losing control."

I was looking back at Carine, but in my peripheral vision, I noticed Edythe watching Carine, too. I thought I saw the corner of her lips flicker in a grim smile.

I forced myself to ignore it, and drew another steadying breath. "Yeah," I said. "Yeah, okay. If Archie doesn't feel comfortable...Maybe we better do that. Cool. We've got it all settled then." I paused, then couldn't help but add, "You promise, right? After graduation."

Carine gazed back at me, her brow slightly furrowed with some nameless concern I couldn't guess, but her eyes were resolute. "You have my word."

Edythe was looking irritated again. "Okay," she said, abruptly cutting in on the conversation. "We'll have plenty of time to discuss all this later. For now, I think it's best if Beau gets back home before Charlie wakes up and finds him AWOL—again."

I smiled a little at the others and ducked my head. "Thanks again. You guys are the best."

"Come back again soon," said Earnest as Edythe seized me by the arm and practically dragged me out the door.

It was a quiet trip home. It felt good to have a definite plan of action—that soon I wouldn't be a fragile human anymore, liable to get people killed because of my helplessness. However, I had mixed feelings. I couldn't be totally sure of my future until it actually came, and by mutual agreement, that was still months away. And I hadn't forgotten Edythe's smile there at the end. From where I was sitting, it had looked just a little diabolical.

When we reached the house, without hesitation Edythe powered straight up the wall like a cat and carried us through the open window. She let me down, then immediately turned her back on me.

I went to sit on the bed, thinking it was better to leave her some time to cool down. But as I glanced up at her, I was disconcerted to see, rather than furious, she had the crook of her finger pressed to her mouth, and her brow was creased with contemplation. She started to pace.

I'd been right—she was scheming something.

I watched her at it for a minute, before I sighed and rolled by eyes. "Come up with anything yet?" I asked dryly.

Edythe stopped dead and spun to face me. She abruptly flashed a smile, showing her dimples and causing me to blink and lose my train of thought.

"I was just thinking, Beau—we're both rational people, aren't we? So what if you and I struck a deal—you give me something that I want, and I give you something that you want."

"Depends on your definition of rational," I muttered, squinting at her suspiciously.

Edythe came to sit beside me on the bed, still smiling. "It's just business, Beau. You name something you'd like from me, and I'll make you an offer. Then we haggle until we come to an agreement we're both satisfied with."

"I already have everything I want," I said, frowning. "I have Carine's word that she's going to change me after graduation—the only thing I really want is to be able to be with you, and that's what I'm going to get. I don't need to make any deals."

Edythe turned toward me, casually slipping her hand through mine. "Oh, Beau," she said softly, almost purring, "but there are surely things you want that you're not thinking of...extra things. Something you would want me to do for you."

I scowled down at her. She reminded me of a shady options trader, trying to talk some millionaire into taking a bad investment.

However, her words had the desired effect, and I could feel my mind already flickering through the possibilities. I felt again my uncertainty, whether by the time graduation rolled around, it would really happen as had been decided this morning. I knew what I would want. If it were possible.

"I know you want me to stay human," I said at last. "And I know why. But if there's one thing I could have...I'd want you to be behind this. I'd want you to vote yes with the others. So...I guess what I'm saying is, if I'm going to be changed, I don't want Carine to be the one to do it. I would want it to be you."

I expected Edythe to get angry again, to glare or fly off into a tirade. But she gazed up at me thoughtfully for a long moment. Then at last, she nodded once. "And if I did agree to that...what would you give me?"

I hesitated, eying her warily. I felt like this was going too easily and I was fairly sure the catch would be major. "What do you want?" I said carefully.

"What about time? Say—" Edythe flashed a smile. "Five years?"

I snorted. "Dream on."

"Three years then," she said.

"That would make me twenty-one," I said, shaking my head. "I'd probably have a beard."

"Hmm," said Edythe, eying my jawline speculatively and reaching up to trace a slender finger along my chin. "That's right. It is strange you haven't started to grow one already...That's something I would love to see."

My brow furrowed. "What, you have a thing for beards now?"

Edythe trilled a laugh as she let her hand drop. "I would if you had one."

I shook my head. She was just trying to stall me. "No way. I'm willing to go to nineteen, but I don't want to go over twenty if I can help it. If you're a teenager, I want to be one, too."

Edythe shook her head. "Sometimes you seem so mature, Beau. Others...I don't know if I know anyone more ridiculous."

I shrugged. "Call me eccentric."

Edythe sighed. "All right, never mind about time then." She eyed me thoughtfully, hooking a finger beneath her chin as she considered. She suddenly smiled, her eyes lighting up. However, she dipped her head.

"What?" I said, suspicious.

"I thought of something I'd like," she said. Her fingers played absently with a bit of the comforter, eyes not quite meeting mine.

I felt my brow furrow in confusion. I couldn't remember if I'd ever seen Edythe act like this. Almost...shy?

I was sure whatever her request was, if it was enough to make even Edythe uncomfortable, I wasn't going to like it. However, after a minute my curiosity got the better of me.

"So? What is it then?"

Edythe kept her head bent, and gazed up at me through her lashes. "You said you would want me to change you," she began. "And not be quite so difficult in all this. I can't promise that I won't still try to convince you to change your mind about eternal damnation, Beau, but I _would_ be the one to change you when the time comes. But in exchange, there's one thing I'd really like you and I to do. While you're still human."

I stared down at her, waiting.

She raised her head then, and her smile was suddenly so brilliant that for a minute I had to blink the stars from my eyes.

"I would like for the two of us to get married."

Silence. I stared at her for a long minute, as the meaning of the words worked to trickle down to my brain. When my voice finally returned to me, I said with flat disbelief, "You're joking, right?"

Edythe gave me a look halfway between hurt and amused. "Beau, you're lucky that when we turn into vampires, our hearts stop beating. Because you might have broken an ordinary girl's heart right there."

I pressed a hand to my head where I felt a headache coming on. "Married," I muttered. "Right after graduation."

"What?" Edythe said, still smiling through her brow was furrowed. "What's that reaction? Don't tell me you're still wanting to go out and live life before you let yourself get tied down."

I shook my head. "It's just—getting married right after graduation. You know how that would look? Not to mention my mom would probably kill me."

Edythe raised her eyebrows. "I have trouble believing that your mother could be so opposed to seeing you settled down."

I sighed. "It's not that exactly. It's just, things didn't exactly work out between her and Charlie, and to her, early marriage is right up there with teenage drinking and tagging fences. It's what dumb, irresponsible kids do—she's pounded that into my head since I was five. If I tell her I'm running off to get married right after graduation...well, let's just say, Victor and the Volturi may not be the biggest threats to my life."

Edythe sighed in a very showy, overly dramatic way, and looked up at me with mournful eyes. "So you won't brave your mother's wrath for me?"

I looked away. It was hard to concentrate when she was looking at me like that, even though I knew she was putting me on. I shook my head.

"Why do you want to get married anyway? I mean, once I'm changed, it won't matter. We can take our vows or whatever vampire rituals you have then."

Edythe leaned her head against my shoulder and sighed. She sounded just a little more serious as she said, "I don't know, Beau. Maybe it's silly. But I want to be tied you when you're still human. I want it to be generally felt by everyone that you and I are one entity, before...before you disappear."

The last words came out as a whisper.

I glanced down at her, but I could only see the top of her head. I imagined facing my mom's reaction, and I mentally sighed. But I put an arm around Edythe's shoulders and rubbed her arm.

"What kind of ring do you want?" I asked with resignation.

Edythe looked up at me quickly, and her black eyes were shining in the semi-darkness. "Oh, you don't need to worry about that. We can keep it simple—we can take a trip to Vegas, if you prefer. I don't think your college fund can afford to take any more hits."

"And why do I need a college fund again?" I asked, frowning.

Edythe smiled. "Because you might surprise yourself and end up going after all. I told you I'd change you when the time came—that doesn't mean I won't still work on you to change your mind."

I shook my head. "I'm going to get you an engagement ring. The diamond is going to be huge. So huge, it'll weigh down your entire arm, and be visible halfway across the school parking lot."

Edythe laughed. "Did I hear just a bit of spite in your voice, Beau? You think that would embarrass me, but it wouldn't. I'd wear it every day, and even twist the diamond around so it refracted all the sunlight and blinded everyone who came near me, just to ensure they noticed it. I'll look forward to the potential conversation starters with positive glee."

"You're unbelievable," I muttered.

I looked up as I heard the creak of bed springs in the other room.

"Charlie's awake and getting up to check on you," she said in a low voice. "I better go."

Edythe was up off the bed in a flash, but I found myself reaching out to grab her arm in reflex.

She turned to look back at me.

"You'll come back, won't you?" I said in a low, suddenly hoarse voice.

Edythe's lips flickered in a smile. Then she leaned down and briefly pressed them to mine. "I won't be far," she breathed in my ear. Then she was gone.

I carefully got myself back under the covers, then laid with my head resting on the crook of my arm, waiting in the darkness. A moment later, I saw my door crack open a few inches.

"Morning, Dad," I said with a bit of a sigh.

"Oh," he said, sounding a bit embarrassed at being caught. "Hey, kid. I didn't know you were awake yet."

"Yeah, I was too tired to get up. I thought I'd wait until you were up to take a shower." I drew back the covers again and started to get up.

"Hold it," said Charlie, and I definitely heard a note of Chief Swan in his voice. "I think you and I need to have a talk first."

He reached over and hit my light, and the sudden brightness made spots dance in front of my eyes. I winced like a drunk with a hangover.

Arms folded, Charlie stood there for a moment awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. At last, he said, "You know you're in trouble." It wasn't a question.

I nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"That was pretty reckless. Just taking off like that—no phone call, no number for me to contact you. You didn't even give me the slightest idea of when you'd be back. After I got back from Holly's funeral, that was a pretty nasty shock."

I didn't know what to say—how I could ever apologize. So I just kept nodding.

"This is serious, Beau," he continued. "To think you could do something like this—you've always been a responsible kid, and you've always had my complete trust, but this is too much. Maybe you're just too young still. Maybe you would be better off in Jacksonville with your mother and Phil, with more supervision."

I stared at the covers of my bed. The disappointment in his tone was worse than if he'd just gone off shouting. I felt like I'd broken his trust—just like I'd broken Jules's trust. I wanted to make it up to him somehow, to make him understand just how important the whole thing had been. It had been life and death, or else I would never have just run off and abandoned him at such a bad time.

But of course, I couldn't explain anything. Because I was part of a world of secrets, and in order to keep from betraying one of my families, I had to let it seem that I had betrayed the other. Just like when I'd had to run from Joss, and strike a knife deep into his old wounds to get him to let me go. I had chosen this path, and I didn't regret it—but I knew that it would mean that this scene would be continually on repeat, that I would keep on betraying him, and the other people I loved. Until after graduation, when I betrayed him in the worst way of all.

The emotions going through my mind must have shown on my face, because Charlie sighed. He unfolded his arms. "Don't ever do that to me again, kid."

"I'm sorry, Dad," I said in a low, hoarse voice.

Charlie looked down at me, and some of the pain and disappointment in his face softened. "Well, mostly I'm just glad you're back, safe and sound," he said gruffly. He added, "But you're still grounded."

"I figured that," I muttered. "Until graduation?"

"We'll see," he said, and I took that to mean probably longer than that, if he could manage it.

Charlie continued to stand in the doorway, and I could tell by the awkward way he fidgeted with his fingers that there was something else he was planning to bring up. Something sensitive that neither of us would want to discuss.

"So," he began. "So they're all coming back, then? _Her_ too?"

His tone was sharp, condemning, just as it had been when he'd spoken to Archie in the kitchen. He had never once blamed Edythe for what I had gone through, at least not in front of me. But now the chilliness in his voice couldn't be mistaken.

"Seems that way," I said, shrugging, pretending not to notice.

"And you're back together?" he said, tone stiff.

"Yeah," I said, and my voice held just a hint of a challenge now.

Charlie snorted. The room was quiet for a minute. He was staring straight ahead at the window when he said abruptly, "Look, kid, you're not going to want to hear this, but I think it needs to be said."

I was silent and Charlie continued, "I know how you feel about this girl, Beau. But I think you'll end up even worse off than you were before if you don't stop and stand your ground now. Tough it out, and keep away from her—that's my advice. Or you'll just end up in the same boat you were last year."

I kept my eyes down, though I could feel splotches of red creeping up my neck now as my annoyance rose.

Charlie sighed. "Let me tell you something. To be frank, kid, since the Cullens left...I was ticked at that girl. She couldn't control the fact that her family left, but if she had been serious about you, she could have found a way to keep in contact. But she didn't. That's the way I felt about it. But—rationally, I knew that was a lot to expect out of a teenager. Better that she made a clean break at the start, than act like you'd still be together someday and all the while be running around with other guys in L.A. And she couldn't have known how you'd react."

He hesitated. "When your mother left...that was a rough time for me. And if she had ever come back, one year, two years, five years down the line—I would have let her back in in a second. But now looking back—I'm glad she didn't."

My thoughts flitted to the collection of photos downstairs—the old wedding photo of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, and the the two of them at the hospital, baby me in my mom's arms. I tried not to think about it most of the time, but ever since I had come here I had known he had never really gotten over my mom, even nearly two decades later. He and I were the same that way.

I could only stare at him, trying to understand what he meant.

"Renée was always a free spirit," he said. "She couldn't have been happy here. Even if she had come back, she would have left again."

He hesitated, and he turned his head to look at me. He said slowly, gruffly, "The only thing worse than going through that would have been to go through it twice."

I stared at my hands. At last, he continued, "I know how you feel, kid, believe me. But you're doing so much better now. And if you let her have a second chance, chances are, you'll just end up in a repeat of last fall. If she didn't care enough to keep things going when she left last time, I guarantee it'll just happen again. Is that what you want?"

His scowl had shifted to the far wall now. He muttered to himself furiously, "That she expects she can just walk right back in...pick things up where you left off like nothing happened..."

I was glaring down at my hands, and they were clenched on my covers. My gaze fell on the tiny cool scar on my finger, where Edythe had sucked the venom from my system before I could be changed forever.

"You don't know her, Dad," I said quietly. "This isn't a second chance, because she never did anything wrong."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the blood was rising in his face, and I could tell the quiet, reasonable talk was over.

He said abruptly, loud and forceful, "She's a flake, and you deserve better. I don't know what she's said to you, but I know her type—the type who can talk her way out of anything. If you were smart, you would shake her off and find someone steady, someone reliable. If I see her in this house again—"

"—you'll be polite and you'll treat her like you would any other girl I bring over," I said. I had turned to look at him now, and I could feel my temper rising. I could feel my face heating up, probably turning nearly as red as his. I drew back the covers and got to my feet, turning to face him. "I'm not going to change my mind," I said. "Where I am, Edythe is going to be too, so you might as well just deal with it."

The two of us just stood there, glaring at each other for a minute. At last I muttered, "You mind going now? I need to take a shower."

Charlie glared at me for a minute longer before he turned. "This conversation isn't over," he said shortly. He shut the door with a heavy thud behind him, and I listened to him stomping down the hall and down the stairs.

I stood there for a minute longer, my arms folded, trying to reign in my temper. I counted to five, then turned around.

Edythe was already there, sitting in my rocking chair in the corner as though she'd never left. I had no doubt she had heard every word of the conversation.

"Sorry about him," I muttered. "He just doesn't understand."

"I think he understands more than you give him credit for," she said softly.

I raised an eyebrow. "So you do think you might get distracted and run off again?" A smile played around my lips as I said it—it was a joke. I had to marvel—I _did_ believe her. The terror that my time was running out had faded to almost nothing, at least for the moment.

Edythe shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous." She hesitated. "But he is right...I did do badly by you. I deserve everything he said and worse. I don't deserve a second chance."

I sighed. "Weren't you listening? I'm not giving you a second chance. You're still on your first."

Edythe's sad smile turned incredulous. "Which is an even more ridiculous thing to say than the other." She shook her head again. "In any case, please don't start a fight with your father over me. Everything he said was more than warranted."

I pressed my mouth into a hard line. "No promises."

I headed over to the dresser, and dragged out some clean clothes. "And I really need a shower," I added, "so I'll be back in a few."

"Take your time," Edythe murmured, still in the rocking chair, her eyes distant. I wondered if she was still thinking about what Charlie had said—I was really going to have to have a talk with him.

As my hand reached out for the doorknob, I paused, another thought I'd almost forgotten returning to my mind.

"Hey," I said, frowning at the door. "By the way. Back when we were at your house, and when I asked Carine if she could change me and she said she could. What _was_ it you were smiling about?" I added, "I hope you aren't getting any more pointless ideas. I _am_ joining you, no matter what kind of stunts you try to pull."

Edythe shook her head, coming out of her reverie. "Oh, that." She smiled. "Well, let's just say there is going to be a bit of an obstacle in you giving up your soul. To be honest, it's not a big one that most of us would even consider. Only Carine would be troubled by it. And—possibly you."

" _Me_?" I said, wheeling around to give her a strange look. "What problem would I have? I'm the one who asked for this."

Edythe's smile was carefully nonchalant, and she shrugged. "Maybe you wouldn't. And obviously, Carine has made her decision. It's probably just going to be more aggravating than anything—but Eleanor will probably be happy. She loves any opportunity for a fight."

My brows contracted above my eyes. "Fighting? Who's fighting?"

Edythe waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Beau. It's not important. Maybe they won't even make a big deal about it."

I stared at her for a second longer, frowning in confusion, before I grinned.

"Oh, I get what you're trying to do. You can try to get me all stirred up over vague, made-up worries all you want, it's not going to make me change my mind."

Edythe sighed and shook her head. "So eager for eternal damnation," she murmured.

I raised an eyebrow. "I'd believe you believed that, except, when you first saw me in Volterra, your first response was, 'Carine was right after all.' I think you have more hope in you than you like to pretend."

Edythe smiled slightly. "Well, I'm aware there's always that slim possibility I might be wrong. But as that has happened to me only rarely, I believe in hard facts and covering all the bases to gambling on slivers of chance."

Still looking back at her over my shoulder, I suddenly grinned. Shafts of sunlight were beginning to stream in through the window now as the sun breached the horizon, and I suddenly felt light all over, my heart full to bursting.

"I'm glad you're back," I said. "So glad. Even the frustrating parts."

Edythe looked back at me, and her onyx eyes glittered. "Sometimes I think it's our mutual frustration you and I thrive on the most."

"I hear sometimes those make the best love stories," I answered. "Just look at Romeo and Juliet. If they hadn't been forced to keep away from each other most of the play, I'm sure they would have had a lot to argue about."

"Oh, no doubt."

And as I headed out the door, I heard Edythe's familiar musical laugh follow me out into the hall.

* * *

A/N: As I said, some changes this chapter. I was most worried about the ones near the beginning. (The conversation was quite different, and had a completely different feeling from the original. And there are some things I was concerned about the way it turned out...)

But, there was also a change near the end I decided to make, since I thought it would be more appropriate. (Partially because he's not as contrary as Bella, and partially because, as the guy, the social circumstances are different. Because marriage is often considered by society a kind of protection/advantage for women, Bella had no reason to feel guilty for wanting to avoid it, and saw it in much the same light as Edward subjecting her to prom, while Beau, no matter how much apprehension he might feel at the thought of a wedding or his mother's likely response, would probably see himself as a jerk if he refused Edythe's request for those kinds of reasons.) Naturally, this will affect some things in Eclipse, but not as much as you might expect.

Anyway...I wasn't sure if I should explain that change or not. (But I was afraid it might seem like bit of a reckless move otherwise. x3)

Thanks so much for reading! All your wonderful thoughts and comments have been very much appreciated, and I'm so happy you've stuck with me this far. Just one more to go now. C: (This one might take longer, since I'll also be trying to prepare the prologue and first chapter of Eclipse at the same time, so I can get them put up fairly close together.) If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! :J

Posted 9/27/16


	26. Epilogue

A/N: Here we are—it's hard to believe. (And the weather is already turning cold again...) I had an issue with my laptop a few weeks back; for a long time I had trouble getting the computer to charge (the connection between the cord and the laptop was touchy, so I'd have to twist around the cord and put it through various contortions to get it so it was actually charging), and suddenly it wouldn't charge at all no matter how I messed with it. I figured I'd have to get a new laptop, but I decided to try getting a new cord off of Amazon, on the off chance that it was something wrong with the cord, and not with the connection inside the laptop. I'm happy to say it's working beautifully now, and I didn't lose all that much writing time. (Just trying to get a handle on Windows 10 would probably have taken plenty of time on its own.)

Well, I guess we should get to it. Thanks so much for sticking with me all this time, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Epilogue—Treaty

Things seemed to go surprisingly quickly back to normal—pre-drowning normal.

Carine went back to work at the hospital, and they were so happy to have her back that, from what I heard, they didn't ask for too many explanations, besides the fact that Earnest had found that L.A. didn't really agree with him. My grades in math weren't looking too good, thanks to the Calculus test I'd missed while I was off in other countries consorting with vampires, and now Edythe and Archie were looking in better shape to graduate than I was. Edythe was still trying to find ways to convince me to hold off on immortality a little longer, and she came over every day with stacks of college applications to fill out, in spite of the fact I'd already managed to miss a lot of the deadlines, what with my irresponsible last few months.

Charlie was still miffed and, though he didn't show it, disappointed and hurt by my abrupt skipping-town stunt. The way he treated Edythe, you'd think it was the cold war at our house and Edythe was Russia. But he was at least letting her inside the house during my designated visiting hours, so I decided not to give him too hard a time on that, at least for now.

School had grown on me. Mainly because Edythe had resumed her previous schedule, meaning we had almost all our classes together again, and once again we were inseparable. It was almost like all the intervening, nightmarish months between now and last fall had never happened.

Like it had never happened—all but for one thing.

Jules never came to see me at the house, and with my house arrest situation, I couldn't exactly drive down to La Push. During the time in the evening between after Charlie frostily asked Edythe to vacate the premises and before she came up to my room after he went to bed, I tried to call her, but she never answered. I was happy now that Edythe was back, I felt like I was in a dream—but that didn't change the fact that I missed my best friend. I'd learned not to mention Jules or the other members of the pack when I was around Edythe if I could avoid it, because I found when I brought them up, she always got this dark look on her face. I already knew he wolves hated all vampires including the Cullens, but I got the impression apparently the feeling was mutual.

Still, I figured Edythe was probably aware of my efforts, and I didn't want to make it seem like I was sneaking around behind her back, so I made it a point to bring it up now and then.

Edythe was picking me up from work one Saturday, and I was irritated. I'd tried to vary my pattern of calls to try to catch Jules, but when I'd tried calling her from work, I'd only gotten Bonnie, who'd made it very clear that Jules didn't want to talk to me. What was going on with her, whether she was depressed or not, was constantly needling me, and I was frustrated to find myself thwarted at every turn.

"She's unbelievable," I said, curling my fingers into a fist and wrapping it restlessly on the armrest. "Seriously. What is her problem? Would it kill her just to get on the phone and talk to me?"

I glared out the window. "So much for friends," I muttered.

Edythe glanced in my direction. "I doubt it's you she's avoiding so much as me," she said. "She knows we're back, and she's probably guessed that wherever you are, I'm with you. A vampire."

I shook my head. "She knows as well as I do that you're not like other vampires."

"I'm afraid the enmity is rooted too deeply for that to matter," she answered quietly. "You must see that, Beau. The best thing is for the two of us not to come anywhere near one another. I could maintain control of myself—but she is young and volatile, and it's very likely we would find ourselves entangled in a fight. And I'm not sure I would be able to stop it before I k—before I harmed her."

I shook my head, and I didn't fail to catch the sudden change in direction. "You wouldn't kill Jules," I said.

Edythe stared back at me, her expression suddenly serious. "I would absolutely kill her, without a second thought, if she in any way put you in danger."

The car was silent for a long minute.

Edythe continued, "But obviously, that would very much upset you, so I think we ought to take all necessary precautions to avoid having it come to that. You have to remember, Beau, she has more reason to hate me than that I'm a vampire, and that's already more than reason enough. There's no reason to tempt fate. She's quite right to keep away."

I didn't answer, only shook my head again. I didn't really believe that, that Edythe was really capable of killing Jules. However, something Jules had said flickered in the back of my mind. " _I'd hate to kill any family of yours."_ It was funny, how they both sounded so similar, threw around words like _kill_ like it was nothing. Even now, I still wasn't used to it.

Edythe was driving unusually slowly now, actually stopping at all the red lights and stop signs. She stared out the front windshield, her face a mask of thought.

"Hey," I said, raising an eyebrow. "You know Charlie's probably staring at the clock right now. You better get me home before I get myself into it even deeper."

Edythe's lips flickered into a smile, and she glanced my way, happy at the change of subject. "Speaking of Charlie, I've been thinking. You never did actually tell him what you were doing when you were gone for those few days, did you?"

I shook my head. "I couldn't come up with anything. So I just left him to guess."

Edythe smiled. "I think he might be under the impression that Archie said something that gave you some hope of winning me back, and so you just up and left to find me. Perhaps he's subconsciously drawing from his limited knowledge of the typical overly dramatic, heartwarming romance novel."

I nodded. "Yeah, I sort of figured he thought it was something like that."

"Well," said Edythe, "I've come up with something to tell him that might make you seem a little less irresponsible. I doubt it will be enough to earn you a pardon in your sentence, but it might shorten it a little, and win you back a few points. I'm going to try to catch Charlie alone this afternoon—I've been hesitating because it might also have the unfortunate effect of his glaring at me less, and getting a small measure of what I deserve has been of a little comfort to me."

I stared back at her. "Isn't it a little late for that now?"

Edythe trilled a laugh. "You should know me better than that, Beau. Built into what I'm going to say is an implied, believable explanation for why you didn't say anything. It might even make you look good."

I eyed her suspiciously. I believed in vampires and werewolves, but I still considered myself a sane, rational person. "What is it? What are you going to tell him?"

Edythe's smile was brilliant. "The truth."

I could only gape at her. "You're joking, right?"

"Not the entire truth, of course," she continued. "I might leave a few things out, and tweak a couple of things here and there. But I think there's enough truth in there for Charlie to understand, and not think any the worse of you for leaving like you did. You should give your father more credit, Beau. He loves you, and wants to be on your side."

I nodded slowly. I knew that. More than knew it.

However, I was going to take more convincing than that. "So, what _are_ you going to tell him? Exactly?"

"Well—" Edythe began, looking pleased with herself. However, she suddenly broke off and her expression changed. "On second thought, today might not be the best day after all."

"What?" I said, with some alarm as I eyed her face, which had suddenly gone paler than usual.

She turned to look at me. "You have bigger worries than getting home a little late."

"I can't be in more trouble," I said in disbelief. "What is it now?"

"You _are_ in more trouble," she said, her voice unusually grave. "No, I don't think I'm going to try that today. But I will stay with you—I promise, I won't let anything happen to you."

"You're kind of scaring me, Edythe. What's going on?"

Edythe didn't answer, only as the car approached the house, her eyes flickered to the driveway. I followed her look—and there it was. Sitting next to the cruiser, gleaming a jaunty red in the sunlight. My motorcycle. There was only one person who could have brought it here.

I stared in complete disbelief. "She didn't."

"She did," Edythe confirmed.

I just kept staring. I couldn't believe it. This was a treachery beyond Benedict Arnold. Ratting me out on what was supposed to be a secret just between us—and while Charlie was already disappointed in me over everything else. She'd just gone and thrown a keg of oil on the fire.

"I'm going to kill her," I muttered furiously under my breath. "Formal, public execution. Gallows or guillotine, one of the two."

I glared out the front window. "Is she still here?" I asked.

"Yes. She's waiting for us over there."

My eyes followed hers, and my gaze fell on the small path that divided the fringe of the dark forest in two.

I got out of the car, slamming the door hard behind me, then stalked in the direction of the forest with long strides, my fists clenched. "Hey!" I yelled. "I know you're there!"

Before I made it to the edge of the forest, Edythe caught me by the arm and held me back. "Charlie will hear you," she said in a low voice. "And once he has you inside, he might just brick over the doorway."

I hesitated, and I saw her point. I dropped my voice to a furious hiss and I said, "Just give me a second here. I have an execution of honor to perform, then I'll go face Charlie."

Edythe didn't let go of my arm. "It's not you she's stayed to talk to. It's me."

This made me pause. Jules's words again returned to my mind. _I'd hate to kill any family of yours._ And what Edythe had said about killing Jules. They wouldn't really fight, would they?

I saw again the image of a russet wolf laying on the ground, covered in blood, only this time it wasn't gunshot wounds. They were claw marks—teeth marks.

At the image, I felt some of my anger drain away, and instead I felt cold. Mad as I was, I wasn't that mad.

"What does she want?" I asked carefully.

"Just to talk," said Edythe, reading my expression and rubbing my hand soothingly. "That's all. She's acting as spokesperson for the pack."

"Oh," I said. I sagged a little with relief. I felt some of my irritation returning.

"We better hurry," she said in my ear. "Charlie's getting impatient."

Holding my hand, Edythe led the way toward the forest. We didn't have to go far up the path; Jules was there, waiting for us. She leaned against a moss-covered tree, dressed as always in a pair of black biking shorts and a sleeveless white undershirt. Her russet arms were folded across her chest, and I couldn't help but notice again the impossibly powerful but lean muscle there, like a jaguar poised to spring. She pushed herself up easily from the tree and came to stand at the center of the path, arms coming to fall at her sides. Her back was slightly curved and her posture slack, as though trying to appear relaxed, but I noticed one of her fists was clenched so tightly the tendons stood out on her wrist.

Her expression was exactly like I knew it would be. Her mouth curled in a sneer, her eyes hard.

As soon as Jules was in sight, Edythe came to a stop, putting up an arm to ensure I stopped behind her. Edythe kept herself between me and Jules.

I glared at her over Edythe's shoulder. However, though I would have expected Jules's cynical expression to only send me to greater levels of wrath at her betrayal, instead, my thoughts flickered back to the last time I had seen her, begging me not to go with tears in her eyes. I felt my anger fade, and I just stared at her wistfully, wishing the first time I was seeing her in so long didn't have to be like this.

"Beau," said Jules with an almost formal nod, but her eyes never moved from Edythe.

"Why?" I asked, and my voice was low and hoarse. "What was with that? This isn't like you, Jules."

The sneer on her face disappeared, but her features stayed hard. "Trust me, it's for the best."

"What's for the best?" I said, brows coming together. "Even if you were trying to get back at me, did you have to go and drag Charlie into it? You have to know what this is going to do to him."

Jules stared back at me, and I saw a flicker of emotion in her expression, but she mastered it, and she only looked at me evenly, almost defiantly.

"She wasn't trying to hurt anyone," Edythe explained softly. "She was hoping if you were grounded, you would spend less time with me."

Jules's eyes flashed, and she glared at Edythe with a look of pure loathing.

I sighed. "Newsflash, Jules, I'm already grounded. Charlie is still recovering from the last stunt I pulled. Otherwise I'd already have been down to La Push to read you the riot act for avoiding me."

Jules blinked, and a flicker of confusion passed across her face. "You are?" she asked. "Grounded?"

"If it wasn't a life sentence before, it sure is now," I said with a sigh. "Two consecutive life sentences, I'd guess."

Jules seemed to consider that.

"She was under the impression that I was keeping you away," Edythe murmured.

Jules's surprise again turned quickly to anger. "Beau really wasn't exaggerating about you," she said, gritting her teeth. "Your...abilities." A shudder rippled down her spine, but she closed her eyes, forcing herself to get control. When she opened her eyes again, they were cool, but I could still see the fire flickering in their depths, ready to rise up again at a moment's notice.

"So," she said coolly. "I guess you must already know why I'm here."

Edythe nodded. "I do." Before Jules could speak, she added, "But before you begin, there's something I'd like to say."

Jules's lips curled back from her teeth, eyes narrowed. Another shudder coursed down her bent spine, shivering down her arms.

"Thank you," Edythe said, softly, her voice low with the depth of her emotion.

Jules blinked, and the shudders momentarily stilled as she stared at Edythe. Her eyes met mine, looking for an explanation, but I was just as taken aback as she was.

Edythe clarified. "You kept Beau alive, and...whole, when I wasn't here to. I will never forget that."

Jules's lips twisted into a sneer. "You've got to be kidding. Don't thank me, bloodsucker. I didn't do it for you."

"I know," said Edythe, nodding. "But just the same, I am in your debt."

"If you wanted to repay me, you'd leave," Jules said, lip curling. "That's the only thing I'd want from you, beast, and you know it."

I adjusted my grip on Edythe's hand, reaching up in reflex to seize her arm, as though she might disappear any moment.

Edythe didn't look away from Jules. "I will only leave when Beau wants me to leave," she said.

Jules let out a harsh, humorless laugh. "Fine. That's okay, leech. I would hate for you to go, just because _I_ wanted you to. The last thing I want is to owe a monster any favors."

I was getting sick of listening to Jules insult Edythe, and I cut in. "Was that all?" I asked sharply. "Maybe you should go."

Jules's eyes were on Edythe, but when she spoke, it was to me. "I'm just here to lay out a few reminders about our treaty."

Edythe's expression was carefully blank.

"Reminders?" I said, eying Jules cautiously.

"First," said Jules, eyes narrow, "they stay off our land, we stay off theirs. They don't hunt humans, either—period."

"Everyone already knows that," I said impatiently.

"One more thing," said Jules coolly, talking over me. "If you read the agreement carefully, you'll see it actually says that they are forbidden from biting a human, or the truce is over. They aren't allowed to hunt humans, but they also aren't allowed to make any more of them."

It took me a second to process that. For a moment, I could only stand there, stunned.

"What—" I blurted. "That's none of your business."

The automatic, impulse response came out before I had a chance to think about it. However, I couldn't have predicted how Jules would respond.

For a second her dark eyes widened in shock, and I knew then that Jules had no idea what we were planning—that this warning had just been meant as a precaution. Then her eyes narrowed to slits, and her nostrils flared. She was suddenly bent almost double, spasming all over. She gritted her teeth.

"Jules?" I said, stepping forward, hand automatically stretching out with concern. "You okay?"

Edythe caught me by the arm and pushed me back, putting herself as a wall between us. "Careful," she whispered. "She's not under control."

However, Jules was already coming back to herself. The shudders had abated, and she straightened, though her fists were still clenched. She glared at Edythe with pure loathing. "Give it up, leech," she said. "I wouldn't hurt him. Never. Beau doesn't have anything to fear from _me_."

Edythe's expression was calm, but her features were chilly at the implication in Jules's tone. Edythe bent her head slightly, spreading her feet just a touch further apart—as though readying herself for a fight. I felt my stomach plummet.

"BEAU!" roared a thunderous voice from the house, making me jump, and completely shattering the tension. "YOU GET IN THIS HOUSE THIS INSTANT!"

All three of us were frozen for a second, silent. I suddenly had a thought that, between facing the rage of a volatile werewolf, and that of Chief Swan, the former sounded a little less perilous.

"Sorry," Jules muttered, and she sounded sincere. "I just—I had to try _something_..."

"Thanks a lot," I muttered, though the sarcasm was somewhat ruined by the squeak at the end, as I turned to look anxiously up the path, expecting a purple-faced Charlie to come barreling through the ferns like an enraged bull any second.

"One last thing," Edythe said, sounding calm again. "We've found no trace of Victor on our side of the line—what about you?"

Jules shrugged irritably, but then considered. "Last time was while Beau was—away," she said reluctantly. "We let the thing think he was slipping through our defenses, getting closer, but as we tightened our circle and were just about to get him, he took off like a bat out of hell. Maybe he caught the short one's scent, since he was at Beau's house for awhile, we don't know. We haven't had a whiff of him since."

Edythe nodded. "Well, when he returns, you don't need to worry about him. We'll take care of it."

"He's ours," Jules hissed.

I started to say something, but the quiet was shattered once again, like a voice of judgment from above.

"BEAUFORT SWAN! I _SEE_ THE CAR AND I KNOW YOU'RE OUT THERE! I AM COUNTING TO TEN, AND IF YOU AREN'T INSIDE THIS HOUSE IN _ONE_ MINUTE—"

"I think we better go," Edythe said quickly.

I nodded, but my eyes flickered back to Jules. When would I see her again? _Would_ I see her again?

"Sorry," she said again, so low I barely caught it. "See you, Beau."

"Hey," I said, clenching my hand in a fist and feeling my brow furrow. "We're still friends, right? You said we would be."

Jules stared back at me for a second, face smooth. She shook her head slowly. "I've already tried, Beau. You know how hard I've tried. But things are different now. We just can't..."

Her tone was cold, distant, but as she trailed off, and her dark eyes met mine, her cold mask flickered, then dissolved. I saw the same pain and desperation I had seen the day I left Forks for Volterra, and for a moment it like any pain of hers was also mine.

She reached out a hand, palm up, as though wanting me to take it, to close the wide gap between us.

Automatically, I took a step forward. I wanted to go over there, I wanted to stand right beside her just like old times, and joke and laugh until I could make her realize that things were okay. That nothing had changed.

I suddenly felt a cold arm around my torso, holding me back.

I turned to look down at Edythe. "Don't worry, it's okay," I reassured her.

Edythe looked up at me with a face that was inscrutable as a granite statue. Cold. "No, it isn't."

I stared back at her for a second, then I put my hand deliberately on her arm, pulling to signal her to let go. She didn't.

"What is your problem?" snarled Jules, suddenly furious again. "Let him do what he wants!" She took a step forward, and a massive shudder tore again along her spine. Her eyes gleamed with anticipation, and I saw the wolf in her dark eyes.

Edythe shoved me back, putting herself in front of me, back bending in readiness for a fight.

"Edythe, don't—"

"THAT'S IT, I'M COMING OUT THERE!"

"Come on," I said in a low, urgent voice, tugging on Edythe's arm, eager for any excuse to distract her. "Come on, we've got to go. Charlie's going to come out and kill me any second."

Edythe retreated slowly, backing away, keeping me behind her and never taking her eyes from Jules.

Jules watched us go, her face twisted in a bitter scowl. However, a moment before the forest came between us, the fight in her eyes dulled, replaced instead by a sharp twist of pain.

I knew even as we retreated that final look would haunt me—until I saw her again, grinning and laughing just like old times.

And, I knew, I would see her again. We were friends, and nothing would ever change that.

Edythe kept her hand on mine, and I felt her other hand reach up to gently touch my face. I forced my expression to remain even, and kept my roiling emotions inside my chest.

I'd thought now that Edythe was back, all my problems would be solved, like the breaking of a curse. But it seemed like, as usual, they were only just beginning. My best friend considered me an enemy. A psychotic vampire was on the loose, and could show up to kill me and the people I loved at any second. The vampire government would come and execute me and my future family if I didn't become a vampire soon, and if I did become a vampire, the Quileute wolves would come after us—and if they did, there was a very real chance Jules would get herself killed in the process.

All these were very real, very serious problems—the kind of problems no teenager should have to deal with. Yet, somehow, as we broke through the trees and I spotted the expression on Charlie's purple face, suddenly all my supernatural problems seemed strangely insignificant.

"I'm here," Edythe whispered, squeezing my hand.

I somehow managed to smile a little back at her. That was true. And as long as it was, I could face anything.

Love was a force of destruction. It could make you do stupid things, maybe even turn you into a bad guy, or leave you a hollow shell. But there was nothing in the world that could make you stronger, either.

So I squared my shoulders, and walked forward, ready to pay my dues, with the girl I'd chosen standing firmly at my side.

* * *

A/N: The end. (Kind of.)

Well, we made it. (And inside of a year, too—considering I have at least one project that's going on ten years now, that's not too bad for me.) Thank you so much for coming along with me, guys, all your thoughts and enthusiasm has been very much appreciated. The preface for Eclipse should be up very soon, and I'm hoping to get the first chapter up within the next week or so. Hope to see you over there! C: Thanks again for sticking with me, and have a great year~

Posted 10/18/16


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